


Where the Heart Is

by Luciferine



Series: Straight on 'Til Morning [3]
Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Angst, Compliant Only to First Game, F/M, Family, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative, Tommy the matchmaker, Unreliable Narrator, Written Prior to Sequel Release, applies slightly to chapters 2 and 3 because once again joel is a mess, everything is terrible and everything hurts, for chapters 2 and 3 because joel is a mess, includes the TLOU Live Epilogue, joel and ellie try to talk about the fireflies and everything goes downhill from there, joel/ellie if you squint, maria and tommy mean well but somehow manage to make everything worse, though you are progressively being required to squint less and less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:52:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferine/pseuds/Luciferine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Joel's confession to his brother. Sometimes, home isn't a place. It's a person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Joel's confession to his brother. Sometimes, home isn't a place. It's a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: It was really important to me, going back to add to this chapter, to show Ellie's struggle with Joel's betrayal and the feelings she has towards him. Hopefully, I did that a bit more justice with the added content.

Though the walk to Tommy and Maria's house is mercifully short, Ellie can barely keep upright by the time they arrive. Her head throbs to the same beat as the rest of her body, draining whatever adrenaline she has. She needs to stay alert, stay  _ready_ , but she physically  _can't_  and she doesn't even have the energy to kick herself for it. She tries not to drift again; she knocked into Joel a half-dozen times already, and the concern that keeps bleeding onto his face makes her feel small, vulnerable. She can't be either of those things right now; neither of them can afford for her to be dead weight if this goes wrong.

She hasn't done a great job of looking intimidating up to now, either. What has she really done, since walking through that gate? She flipped her shit when a guard tried to grab her, instead of pushing back or shouting abuse or doing  _anything_  useful. She  _wanted_  to, of course she wanted to hit the fucker for trying to get his hands on her –even though she knows he was just doing his job, just protecting the town, she's so  _sick_  of people grabbing and trapping her so  _sick_  of not being able to get  _away_ \- but she froze; just for a moment, and Joel picked up the slack and scared the shit out of the bastard, but she still froze.

She hid behind Joel like a fucking coward when it got a little tense –she still can't get Tommy's face out of her head, or the knowledge that her presence, her  _life_ , killed whatever hope he had and filled him with so much fucking  _grief_ \- didn't she? Yeah, she got in Tommy's way when he was pissed, but that was nothing. She  _knew_  he wouldn't do anything. She hasn't known him long, but even she can tell that violence doesn't come to Tommy the way it does to Joel.

Even though, she admits, she wasn't thinking so rationally at the time. All she knew was that Tommy was coming at his brother and she wasn't going to let Joel get hurt, not because of  _her_. She doesn't understand how she can be so angry, so hurt by everything Joel did today and still be ready to throw herself between him and danger. The anger is  _there_ , burning a hole inside of her, but the second Tommy turned on his brother all of that was pushed into a corner of her brain and stopped being important until Joel was safe again.

What the  _fuck_  is she supposed to do with that? That, or the fact that on the way here she leaned on Joel the whole way, that when he quietly repeated his earlier offer to carry her all she felt this time was warmth and safety and a hundred other things she shouldn't feel with him anymore. But she  _does_ , she does because she trusted this man,  _cared_  about him, with everything she had and she can't just flip a switch and shut that off. She can't  _stop_.

Which is how she ends up here, waiting in silence to hear the truth, or as much of it as Joel sees fit to give.

Joel shifts uncomfortably as they enter the house, hovering near the doorway even as Tommy waves a hand to the overstuffed chairs and couches further inside.

"Ain't no need for an escape route, brother," Tommy says, his tone only half-joking. Joel doesn't respond, but Ellie thinks she understands. She feels like an intruder in this place. It's not like the abandoned, run-down houses she and Joel passed through so many times. This is a  _home_ , this has life in it. She's never been in a place that felt like this, and she's sure Joel hasn't for a long, long time. She tells herself  _that's_  why she stays close to him instead of giving her aching feet a rest; not because she wants to, but because going further in would just increase this feeling of trespassing.

"Right then," Joel mutters. She can feel the tension coiled up in him, even from where she's standing and feels it echoed in her own body. She almost wants to tell him to stop, to cover her ears and just not listen. She bites her tongue, though, because she needs to know.

Joel outlines their entire journey, even going back so far as to what happened directly after they left Tommy's dam. Ellie quietly chips in when he gets the topic of his accident and the following months of feverish recuperation. She chokes slightly as she explains about David. She has to look at the ground when she does; the horror on Tommy's face and the all-too knowing tightness of Maria's expression are just too much. She stops abruptly, her throat going completely dry.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I just… I need to…" She collapses onto the nearest couch for a moment, not quite breaking down but definitely not alright either. She doesn't want to look up at the pity she knows she'll see in Tommy and Maria's faces, so she stares at her hands. She feels the couch sag and shift under new weight as Joel joins her.

All her inner conflict on giving and receiving comfort from him fade at once; what she wants more than anything is him steady and sure and  _alive_  beside her. She needs to be reminded that he's not on death's door anymore, that he came back to her and he's not going to stop breathing anytime soon. He doesn't say anything, and they lean into each other in silence for a few moments before Joel picks the story back up. Ellie doesn't speak again after that, and doesn't move away from Joel.

His voice is rough with exhaustion and emotion the entire time he speaks, but it's only when he describes her nearly drowning on the last leg of the trip that his voice cracks. "I got her out, but she wasn't-" He stops, and she can practically hear him cursing himself for the break. "She wasn't breathin'." The horror in his voice isn't easy to stomach on its own, but the  _force_  of it is enough to knock the wind right out of her. "I was tryin' to bring her back, but then one of those bastards came up and knocked me out." She doesn't expect the hatred that creeps into his voice when he mentions the Fireflies. "When I came to, Marlene was there. She said-" The words fall flat, and she watches the unbridled disgust on his face with a growing knot of dread twisting in her stomach. "She said the Cordyceps inside of Ellie was… different; mutated. Said they'd have to cut it out to do anythin' with it. Out of her fuckin'  _brain_ , like that was all she was good for, like she wasn't…" He stops again and this time remains silent, hanging his head. She's close enough to feel the breath rattling out of him on every exhale, but otherwise the silence is so complete her ears are ringing with it.

"Then what?" Tommy asks, face drawn and exhausted. When his brother doesn't answer, he pushes himself to his feet. " _Then what_ , Joel?" he grinds out. Ellie flinches, wary of the way his hands ball into fists and the angry twist of his mouth. Joel's arm is around her shoulder in an instant, pulling her close as he shushes her gently.

"He ain't gonna do nothin'," he mutters low enough only she can hear. "He's pissed at me, but he ain't gonna start throwin' punches. 'S okay." She  _wants_  to believe him. She doesn't think he's lying; she's sure he believes every word he's saying but it's been so  _long_. What if Tommy's changed, what if he's capable of things he never was before? She can't even summon up her earlier anger at the way Joel can read her, at the way he knew the reason for her fear immediately. The thought of him cold and silent on the ground again robs her of the ability.

"Tommy," Maria warns, her eyes on Ellie. He follows his wife's gaze and grimaces as he looks to Ellie. He raises his hands peacefully, guilt clear in every line of his face as he stumbles over an apology and Ellie wants to laugh, wants to yell at them for being so damned stupid. How can they not know she's not afraid of Tommy for  _her_  sake? She's faced too many men –far worse than him, men who wanted to hurt her in ways Tommy would never dream of doing- to be afraid for her own safety, but Joel is tired and still not quite healed and she's not sure if he could fight his brother now without major damage. So, she keeps her mouth shut. If thinking she's afraid will keep Tommy peaceful, then she'll play the part gladly.

Tommy settles back into his seat, moving slowly like he's worried he'll freak her out. She wonders if Joel finds the whole thing as ridiculous as she does, regardless of the good intentions behind it. "Please, Joel," Tommy says, and he sounds right on the edge of begging. "What happened after Marlene told you?"

Joel's expression, when he looks up, is like nothing she's ever seen on his face before. It isn't his usual stony expression, not even cold in the way he puts on when he's trying to mask himself. There's a steadiness to it, an acceptance. She can't call it pride, but there's no regret anywhere on his face. She can't read any part of it, can't tell what he's thinking under it all, and that frightens her.

"Ain't nobody comin' after her," he says finally. She knows how much of the story he must be leaving out, but it's enough. The words are enough. The way he says them –not cruel or vindictive, not really, but with a sort of grim satisfaction that  _should_  scare her- is enough. Tommy tries to press him further, but Joel only shakes his head, his agitation becoming clearer with every passing moment.

"They would have  _killed_  her, Tommy," Joel snaps when his brother shows no signs of letting up in his interrogations. Joel's voice cracks halfway through the sentence and he grits his teeth loudly, like he's desperately trying to keep himself under control. "Goddamit, ain't that enough for you? They would have killed her. It's  _done_. Let it be over,  _please_." He may be addressing his brother, but he's looking at her as he says the words.  _Let it be over._  Doesn't he know how badly she wants to? How badly she wishes it could be done, that she could move on? Doesn't he know she can't? His eyes are pleading when they meet hers and it makes her want to fucking  _scream_.

Fuck it all, fuck  _him,_ because the urge to comfort him is so strong she has to digs her nails into her palms to curb it.  _Fuck him,_ because he doesn't deserve any of it, because he's basically admitting he lied to her face, and she  _still_ wants to hold him until he's knitted himself back together. How does he  _do_  that? How can he hurt her so deeply and still make her  _care_?

Silence reigns in the relatively small space of Tommy and Maria's living room; the silence after a storm, or after a brutal fight. Ellie knows she should probably look over at Joel's brother and sister-in-law, to measure their reactions and see if she and Joel need to get the fuck out of here, but she can't. She can't even process what's happening, what she's just heard. She isn't stupid enough to be surprised, not knowing Joel like she does, not knowing… not  _thinking_  she knows how he cares for her.

She expected most of it, yes, but she hadn't counted on Joel's view of it; the terror on his face when he spoke of the hospital –still dodging questions, still backing away from the whole truth with enough strength that she doubts she'll ever hear the entirety of it-, the way he kept stopping to  _look_  at her, like he was trying to memorize her or trying to make sure she hadn't disappeared in a puff of smoke… she was nowhere near prepared for that.

As she sits shell-shocked on the couch with Joel still barely composed at her side, all she really wants to do is lie down and sleep for  _years_. She somehow finds the energy to grab his hand anyways, and squeeze.  _We're okay._ _She doesn't know if it's a lie, if they're really okay or not, but it's all she has to give._

"It ain't ever gonna be over, Joel," Tommy says quietly. "Not as long as…" He trails off, looking pointedly at Ellie.

Joel stiffens, his spine going completely straight as he glares at his brother. "Don't go there, little brother." His voice is soft, but the threat rings clear enough. "You ain't gonna like where that road takes you."

Tommy's expression softens slightly. "I didn't mean… I ain't gonna-" He sighs. "She ain't ever gonna have a normal life, Joel. Neither are you, if you plan on stickin' with her." Ellie's breath catches as she waits for Joel's answer.  _He's not leaving_ , she assures herself.  _He's not leaving me_. Her head throbs as she wonders why she even  _cares_ , the back and forth in her own mind nearly deafening.

"We'll manage," Joel says stiffly, and the unwarranted relief that sweeps over her is almost overwhelming. The tightness she notes in Tommy's expression as he looks at his older brother almost reads like concern, but she can't be sure. Sighing, Tommy nods in acceptance, though of  _what_  she couldn't really say. Joel relents a moment later, dropping his head so can rest it on his hands.

"Maybe… we should resume this in the morning?" Maria offers with uncharacteristic softness, looking from them to her husband. "We're all tired, and I think we've had enough of an explanation for now." Ellie shoots her a look of gratitude, but Maria's eyes are only her husband, now. Ellie can understand the concern; Tommy seems to have aged years during their conversation, like the weight of all this knowledge will crush him if he's not careful, and her earlier guilt at destroying his hopes for a better world swamps her all over again.  _I'm sorry_ , she thinks, almost says, even though that wouldn't even begin to cover it.

"Dammit, Joel," Tommy's voice has lost all hostility. Now he just sounds as exhausted as Joel and Ellie must look. "You selfish fuckin' bastard. You've gone and doomed us all." His tone softens his words, though. He seems mystified, but not entirely surprised. When he looks at her, it's not with the judgment or the resentment she deserves. He doesn't even seem that shocked, and Ellie wonders if he had a feeling something like this would happen. Maybe they all should have known better; maybe it really was inevitable. Joel doesn't look up from where he's buried his head in his hands, but he lets out a self-deprecating bark of laughter, regardless.

"I one-upped the goddamn apocalypse. I deserve a fuckin' medal," he mutters, the sound somewhat muffled by his hands. His tone is somewhat amused, in what Ellie can only think to call a sort of gallows humour; the last laugh of a man who's seen the future, and knows it isn't at all bright.

"We," Ellie corrects him, breaking her silence. "We one-upped the goddamn apocalypse. Don't you dare take all the credit for this one; it was a joint effort." The half-hearted joke falls painfully flat. Joel raises his head, and his expression is heartbreaking. She wants to tell him she didn't mean it like that, that she knows it's not her fault... but she'd be lying. It  _is_  her fault. She could have demanded he turn back the moment she woke up. She could have run from him and found the Fireflies.  _Whatever's left of them_ , she thinks, barely holding back a grimace. She could have – _should_  have- done so much to counter what Joel did, but she didn't. She's  _here_ , with him, and she's alive. It's every bit as much her fault as it is his. Maybe more.

"Maria's right," Tommy says suddenly, obviously guessing at the tension. Ellie breaks eye contact with Joel, embarrassed at how obvious they're being. Tommy yawns hard enough that Ellie hears his jaw crack, and she has to smile at his attempt at levity. "We all need to rest. I… well, there's a place for you, Joel." He grins slightly, and Ellie finds herself grateful at his effort to bridge some of the rift that opened between both brothers.

The pleasantly surprised look on Joel's face makes him look so young for a minute, especially in comparison to the grim expression he wore moments ago, that it tugs at Ellie's heartstrings. She tries to remind herself she's supposed to be angry at him. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. "What?" Joel blinks, confused.

Tommy rubs the back of his head, looking sheepish. "When you and Ellie left… I… well, I figured you'd probably stay with her if you could, but on the chance that the Fireflies were able to drag you away from her and boot you out, I wanted to make sure there was a place for you. Just in case." He looks uncomfortable, and Ellie's willing to bet that Joel isn't the only brother with issues when it comes to expressing emotions. She makes a mental note to ask Maria later... if they're allowed to stay, that is.

She's shaken from her thoughts by movement at her side, and watches incredulously as Joel surprises everyone, probably himself included, by walking over to Tommy and slapping his back in what Ellie recognizes as Joel's version of a hug. Tommy is tense for all of a few moments before relaxing, a baffled smile crossing his face.

"Thanks, Tommy." He doesn't say 'little brother', and Ellie wonders if that's supposed to mean something. Tommy just nods, shrugging off the thanks like he hasn't given his brother a huge gift. Joel's smiling too now, and for a second Ellie can imagine them in their younger years, before all this shit happened. She has to look away at the strange regret that thought spawns, and ends up meeting Maria's gaze. The older woman gives her a sad smile, and Ellie knows she's not alone in her thoughts.

"We'll find Ellie a room for herself if you both want your space. You guys must be sick of each other after so long," Maria offers. "We have a few spares to choose from." Tommy nods in agreement. Blind panic flashes through Ellie and she makes a small, alarmed sound. She can't just leave him like that; she has to know he's okay. She could shrug it off as a habit formed during the winter, when she needed to keep an eye on him, but she's also genuinely unsure if she could sleep without him near. Joel can only manage what sounds suspiciously like a growl before he can form actual words, and she can only assume he feels the same.

"No," he rumbles, as Ellie blurts out the word frantically at the same time. Tommy raises his hands in surrender, taking a step back from his brother. Ellie doesn't blame him; Joel's entire posture had shifted, his fists clenched like he's ready to fight to keep her with him. Ellie looks to Maria and finds the older woman smiling to herself, almost sadly; she doesn't seem at all surprised at their decision. Ellie watches the pointed look Maria shoots her husband, and Tommy's shrugged response.

"Alright, alright. Don't bite our heads off; this way." Ellie doesn't think she's imagining that Tommy's walking faster than usual, putting space between him and Joel. She snorts in amusement. Joel looks back at her from the doorway.

"Wanna share the joke?" he asks, his face softening into a hesitant smile. She finds herself relaxing along with him. This is familiar territory; her stupid jokes and his exasperated responses. This is safe. This is okay.

She waves her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's nothing. You and Tommy are funny, is all."

Joel looks indignant at that, though she's sure it's more put-on than genuine. "Glad I amuse you," he grumbles. She allows herself a small laugh and pats him on the arm, the contact surprising them both in its normalcy as she slides past him to follow Tommy and Maria, who is watching them again with something like curiosity in her expression.

Tommy leads them to the very outskirts of the settlement, past rows of houses. There's no one outside -she's guessing because of Tommy's order-, but she sees faces in the windows, peering out at them. She edges closer to Joel and keeps her head down, nervous under their scrutiny. She only dares to look up again when Joel pulls her to a stop after what feels like ages. She's glad that she does, because what she sees is worth the staring a hundred times over.

Their new home is a small, cabin-like structure. Comfortable for one person, and well enough for two. It's the most beautiful thing Ellie has ever seen and she finds herself smiling so much her face hurts. Tommy seems pleased at that, and makes a grand, sweeping gesture towards the cabin. Ellie rushes in, keen to explore. Joel laughs outright at that, and it's a good laugh. The trespassing feeling that plagued her earlier doesn't apply to this place. It's not haunted with the routine normalcy of anyone else's life; they can start fresh here, they can make it  _theirs._ The rush of joy she feels gives her pause for a moment as she realizes she shouldn't even be here to be seeing this place, let alone planning how to make a life in it. She stops just inside the doorway, frozen by guilt and indecision when she hears Joel speak up.

"So, how long do we get to stay?" His voice has an edge to it and for a moment Ellie is confused at his hostility.

"How d'you mean?" Tommy replies, in a tone that hints he has an idea where this is going.

"How long 'til you call the Fireflies on us? Or before someone else in this place finds out and Ellie ends up bein' dragged back to that godforsaken hospital? So help me God, Tommy, I love you and you're my brother but-"

"But if you think for a second that I'm a threat to Ellie's safety you'll blow my fuckin' head off," Tommy finishes, voice just as hard.

"Boys…" Maria starts, voice cautious. Ellie feels it too; the sudden charge of aggression in the air, and she clutches nervously at the doorframe.

"That's right," Joel says, as if Maria hadn't spoken at all. "I don't wanna hurt you, Tommy. I really don't. So if you're plannin' anythin' stupid or if you think we're in danger here, promise me you'll at least give us a head start." There's a long pause before Joel speaks again, and his voice is cracking again. "Please. I can't… not again. I can't watch her die, Tommy. I  _won't_." Ellie peeks out around the open door. She meets Maria's gaze almost immediately, and sees the older woman's alarm. Tommy sighs, exhaustion etched into every line in his face.

"If somethin'  _did_  happen. If she was taken back to the Fireflies and they got the vaccine and saved the world. What would you do?" Tommy asks, staring hard into his brother's face. "If she was dead and gone and there was nothin' you or nobody else could do to save her, what would you do?"

Joel's face is hard as stone when he answers. "Give her body as decent a burial as I could,  _if_  I could, and then swallow the barrel of my gun." Ellie swallows the sheer terror, the overwhelming feeling of  _wrongness_ , that threatens to drown her at how easily Joel discusses his own death. Tommy flinches. "That good enough for you, little brother?"

"You'd be a hero, Joel. So would she. No one would ever forget-" Tommy tries, before Joel cuts him off violently.

"I don't fuckin'  _care_  if no one would ever forget, because she'd be fuckin'  _dead_ , Tommy. And it would be worse than everythin' before,  _worse_  than… worse than Sarah, because I would've led her straight into it. Her choice or not, I would've never been able to live with myself," he grinds out.

"That's what you used to say when you thought about anythin' happenin' to-"

"Ellie is not Sarah." Ellie's never been scared of Joel, not really, but at that moment she still shivers at the fury dripping from those four words. He's shifted so she can't see his face, but if Tommy's expression is anything to go by, it's formidable. Tommy raises his hands again and backs away. Maria starts forward, and Ellie panics, remembering how capable the older woman is with a gun. Fortunately, Tommy stops her with a shake of his head and something spoken too quietly for Ellie to hear. His face is unshakably calm as he turns to regard his brother once more.

"Easy, Joel. Easy. No one's doin' anythin' tonight. I… I need time to think. But I swear on my life, if I make a decision that will hurt you or Ellie, I'll warn you ahead of time," he promises. Joel snorts derisively.

"Words." He spits it out like a curse. "Don't mean much in the grand scheme of things. You could still ambush us in the middle of the night, shoot me and take the girl while she's sleepin'. Is you fuckin'  _cure_  worth that, Tommy?" Ellie's actually frightened for Tommy, now; when Joel's like this, when he's gone feral, he's nearly impossible to talk down. His younger brother doesn't seem fazed, and Ellie wonders if he's faced Joel's fury enough times to be desensitized to it. She wonders if that's even possible.

"You're right. In that case, the smart thing to do would be to shoot me and run like hell. No one else knows. You'd be safe," he reasons calmly. Ellie's eyes grow large in shock, enough so that they start to ache. Tommy can't be that stupid, can he? Doesn't he know Joel? If he thinks he's calling a bluff, he's dead wrong. She bites her lip, makes a quick decision. The second she sees Joel's hand so much as twitch towards his revolver, she bolts out of the cabin and grabs his shooting arm.

"Dammit, Ellie…" he growls, trying to shake her off. She holds on easily, his movement barely enough to move her. For once, his caution with her plays to her advantage.

"Dammit, Joel," she mocks. "Don't be fucking stupid. You're not going to shoot your own brother over me, dumbass. Listen. The way I see it, we get a good night's sleep on something better than the fucking ground, and we take shifts. If either of us hears anything suspicious, we wake the other and we hightail it the fuck outta here. Then you can shoot Tommy, if you still want to. But I am fucking tired and so are you and we have a fuckload of things to talk about and have I mentioned I am fucking  _exhausted_?" she rambles, racing to force out all the words before he brings chaos crashing down on them.

There's a long moment where he considers her words and no one moves or breathes. She stares at him pleadingly, begging him not to ruin this before they can even try. After what feels like forever, she feels him relax slightly, deflate. The violence seems to leave him all at once... at least, as much as it ever does. She exhales shakily in relief. He leans into her a bit and she quickly shifts to accommodate the extra weight and not fall over.

"One night," he tells her, giving in. "First sign of trouble, we're outta here."

_It worked_ , she rejoices silently. "Sounds like a plan," she agrees softly, offering him a small smile. She pretends not to hear the audibly relieved exhales coming from Tommy and Maria's direction.

"Thanks," Tommy manages to say after a few moments of awkward silence. "For, uh, talkin' him down. Much obliged."

"He wouldn't have really shot you," Ellie says with more confidence than she actually feels. Joel opens his mouth -probably to contradict her- but a well-placed elbow to the ribs shuts him right up.

"Yeah, he would've," Tommy says with a knowing, slightly sad smile.

"I'd appreciate it if you returned the favor?" Ellie requests. "Don't let me get killed, either." Maybe she shouldn't be alive right now, but Joel is still vibrating with barely-concealed tension under her hands and it's too easy to remember his earlier words, remember what her death would do to him, not to mention what  _he_ would do to Tommy, to Maria, to the whole fucking  _town_ if this was how she got back to the Fireflies. Maybe she shouldn't be alive, but she  _is_  and Joel needs her and… and maybe that can be enough, for right now. Tommy stares at her for a moment, eyes uncomfortably knowing, before nodding.

"I'll do my damndest. Joel'll hunt me down like a fuckin' dog if I don't, I reckon."

"Damn straight," Joel grinds out.

Maria sighs deeply. "Okay, boys. That's enough threats and near death experiences for one night. Let's go, Tommy. Leave the kids to talk." She ushers her husband away, but not before looking to Ellie with violent relief in her eyes and mouthing 'thank you'. Ellie just nods. She didn't do it for them, not really, but she's sick of seeing people hurt and she's glad it ended well, regardless. Joel watches until they've returned the way they came, and only then can Ellie manage to coax him into the cabin.

"For what it's worth, I don't think he was lying," she says quietly, placing her backpack on the ground. Joel just sinks onto the single spare cot and grunts, running his fingers through his hair. Ellie decides to leave him to process, and explores the structure for a bit, taking in the handful of rooms and running her hands along the smooth wood of the walls. She looks out the window, noting they're as close to the woods as you can get without passing the walls, and Ellie wonders if Tommy chose it specifically to match Joel's lone wolf nature. The furnishings are sparse, mainly just the cot, a bed in the room she assumes was supposed to be Joel's, and a couple of chairs and tables.  _It's perfect_ , she thinks, unable to contain the smile that breaks out across her face.

"D'you like it?" Joel asks softly, breaking the silence. Ellie takes a moment, then nods.

"I really do," she confesses, almost in a whisper. He sighs.

"Alright. I guess... that means we've gotta make this work. Which means…"

"We need to talk," Ellie finishes for him. She turns around and sits beside Joel on the cot, forcing herself not to fidget at the wave of nervous energy that swamps her.

"Fuck," he says with his usual lack of tact. Ellie laughs in spite of it all, even as the growing weight of what needs to be said pushes the air from her lungs.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie and Joel struggle with their inner demons and dance around the issues at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter (now split into two for your reading convenience) underwent the biggest change out of all the series. Mainly, this is due to the fact that while I was editing, the TLOU Live presentation (which I highly recommend you search and watch, because it's brilliant) happened. And at the end of that was a specially written epilogue to the game, which I also highly recommend you search up, though only a written description exists on the internet, to give you context to what happens after Joel knocks on Ellie's door. Esther, her clock joke, and Tommy's well-meaning but misguided quest to set her up with Joel all originate from that epilogue. The song Joel sings, 'Future Days' by Pearl Jam, also came from the epilogue. Seriously. That wasn't me making things shippy; the writers did it for me. This monstrosity of a chapter(s) all came about from me trying to adjust SOTM to the newly-available canon, while sticking to the heart of my series. Note: Despite Joel's unreliable and non-linear narration, the occurrences of this chapter and the next probably only span around a week, if that. The official timeline for the epilogue was four weeks, but nobody worth their salt believes Joel and Ellie could keep away from each other that long, even angry (and it's all much more of a misunderstanding, to begin with). Since time is not explicitly stated in the epilogue, I took it upon myself to make the entire thing make a bit more sense.

He wishes she would say something. They haven't spoken a word since Tommy and Maria left, and the silence that hangs between them damns him with every beat. He wants to reach out to her, put his arm around her, say her name, something  _-anything_  - other than this suffocating silence. But the gap between them, while only a few inches wide, may as well be miles across for all the courage he can find to cross it.

"Figured you'd have a lot to say," he mutters finally, figuring it's as safe a statement as he's likely to find. Unsurprisingly, she doesn't answer. He grits his teeth against the ache in his chest. Is this it? Is she going to ignore him now? He'd rather she scream or swear or hit him, as long as she acknowledged him. If this whole damn thing could just be solved with a square punch to his jaw, he'd take it gladly. But she doesn't move to hit him. She doesn't move at all. She does what she  _has_ been doing ever since they were left alone; she stares at the ceiling like it's the most fascinating thing on the planet, her expression thoughtful.

"Do you think there are more of them?" she asks finally, eyes still fixed on the same point. Relief floods him at the sound of her voice, distracting him enough that he has to think on his reply for a moment.

"More of who?" He can't read her like this, with her face turned away from him. He can't see her eyes, can't see what she's thinking. It unsettles him, having her seem so foreign to him. He considers reaching out to turn her to look at him, but decides against it. Now might not be the best time to touch her.

She turns to look at him,  _finally_ , bright – _too bright_ , he thinks worriedly,  _please god don't start cryin' I ain't gonna be able to handle it_  - eyes taking in his face before meeting his gaze. He sees everything she's feeling, in that moment. Fear, guilt, grief, anger, uncertainty… all of it. She's good at hiding when she has to be, his girl, but she's never quite been able to hide from him… not that she gives it much of an effort. "The Fireflies," she tells him softly, like a confession. He recoils internally at her words, forcing himself not to flinch visibly. He feels the beginnings of panic creeping at the edges of his mind.

He clears his throat, fighting to keep his expression neutral. "Now, why'd you ask a thing like that?" he asks, voice rough. She looks down at her hands, silent once more. His eyes widen as a possibility dawns on him, filling him with dread. "Ellie, don't you even think for a fuckin' second that I'm gonna let you run off and find them again… that I'm gonna let you off yourself for mankind. I don't care if you hate me for what little's left of my miserable life -"

"Don't," she grinds out, eyes flashing when she raises them again. "Don't say that."

"What?" He thinks it's a fair enough question; he's just said a lot of things that could've made her upset. She glares at him, shoving herself off the cot with enough violence that it shakes underneath him. "Wait-" He reaches out for her, already half off the cot and ready to chase after her if she storms out in a rage.

She pivots on her foot so that she's facing him again. He sees her fist coming, but doesn't move until it's collided with his shoulder. Maybe letting off steam will help her. It hits an old fracture –he's willing to bet she was aiming for it- and he curses a blue streak. He wasn't expecting it to hurt quite so badly. She sets up for another one, but this time he grabs her fist before she can make contact.

"Easy," he murmurs in an effort to soothe her.

He runs his thumb across the expanse of her knuckles, watching the muscles relax. Her fist doesn't quite fit in his. Sarah's used to. He remembers his earlier words to Tommy, when he was genuinely prepared to blow his little brother's brains out. Ellie is not Sarah. And then… _You're not my daughter and I sure as hell ain't your dad._  No. Definitely not his kid. Sister-in-arms, he supposes, an ally. A friend. Maybe, he grimaces when he remembers her standing between him and Tommy on two separate occasions in less than two hours, his conscience, too.

Ellie's glare falters for a moment, eyes searching his face. "I didn't… did I… damn, Joel. You must be really losing your edge if that actually hurt you," she mutters.

"You wish," he teases gently. "My edge is fine. I was just thinkin'."

"Don't strain yourself," she replies, more out of habit than anything else. He allows himself a small smile before sobering. "I'm… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I just… don't talk about dying, alright? Just… don't. I have to think about it enough. I don't want to think about it when you're involved."

"Out of all the shit I just said, that's the thing that made you deck me?" he asks incredulously. She shrugs, looking at the floor. "C'mere," he says gently, pulling her back down beside him. "Ellie…" he begins in an attempt to get back on topic, concern colouring his voice. She groans.

"For fuck's sakes, Joel, I'm not going to go turn myself in to the Fireflies. Dumbass. But that doesn't mean they won't come looking for me," she mutters. Joel's gaze hardens and he feels an all-too familiar rage bubbling up.

"They won't. I swear they won't. If Tommy-"

"I'm not talking about Tommy, Joel. He's not going to call them on me. He's not fucking stupid, you know. He knows you'll kill him and probably everyone else here for good measure if he does. Besides, I don't think he'd want to do that to you. Or me." Joel clenches his jaw, but nods.

"Fine. How else would they find you, then? I-"  _killed them all_ , "made damn sure they couldn't come back for you," he grits out. She fixes him with a dark look and he knows she's not fooled by his evasions. In the ensuing silence, it's difficult not to think of exactly why they're in here… what they still have to talk about.

"Yeah, that was real fucking sweet of you. I'm touched," she deadpans. "I swear, Joel. Aren't you supposed to be smart about shit like this? Do you honestly think every Firefly in the country was centered at that hospital? Really? Don't you think that another faction might go back only to find their buddies… out of commission? Don't you think they'll figure it out? There might be paperwork or some-"

"Recordings," Joel interrupts her, mind whirring as he puts the pieces together. Oh god, what if he didn't get them all? Ellie's right, he was supposed to be smart about this, he was supposed to  _protect her_ …

"What?" Ellie asks, obviously irritated at being interrupted. Joel hesitates briefly, already sure it will do more harm than good, but at Ellie's impatient frown he reaches into his backpack and takes out Marlene's recorder from the hospital despite his misgivings. Ellie looks at him questioningly.

"It-" He clears his throat. "It was Marlene's."

"Play it." Her voice is strained, and the grief clouding her eyes hurts him worse than any physical blow. He pauses for a moment, unwilling to cause her any more pain. Her gaze is sharp when it meets his. "Do it, Joel." He hits play. They sit in silence for a few minutes, just listening. He pointedly doesn't look at her as Marlene's voice fills the silence. It's beyond eerie, hearing her voice after death. Joel's never been superstitious, but he still feels his skin crawl.

Ellie sits perfectly still and quiet, and he wants to crush the stupid machine to dust in his hands. He never should have brought it out.  _No more lies_ , he reminds himself bitterly.  _No matter how much they hurt. They only make things worse._ He looks at Ellie, who may as well be miles away instead of right beside him.  _Fuck, they just make it so much worse._

 _"Oh, I miss you Anna. Your daughter will be with you soon."_  He'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad for it to be over. He resolves to never play the damned thing again. It's downright unsettling. As the recording clicks off, Joel doesn't even dare to look up. He hears Ellie take a shuddering breath. He hasn't let go of her hand since she attempted the second punch, and he lets her clutch at him, not saying a word even as her nails dig into his skin. The next sound she makes tears itself from her throat so violently that he jumps, his eyes wide.

"Ellie?" He reaches for her with his free hand, but she flinches away. He freezes, terrified of frightening her. She gives his hand one last squeeze before shoving herself off the cot. "Ellie, are you-"

"Don't," she snaps as he tries to get up. "I just… I need… give me a minute." He waits, anxiety clawing at his throat while he watches her shake, suffering alone and grief-stricken and  _it's all his fault_. She won't even look at him, and he doesn't want to know what that means. He glares powerlessly at the discarded recorder, though he knows this would have happened regardless. It's been brewing since she woke up on their way to Jackson. Knowing that doesn't make the reality any easier to bear, though.

"I ain't sorry," he mutters, not even sure if he meant to speak out loud but suddenly certain he won't get another chance to say the words.

Ellie turns to look at him, eyes brimming with tears and expression incredulous. "What?" she chokes out.

He forces himself to meet her gaze. "I ain't sorry for gettin' you out. For hurtin' you, yeah. But not for keepin' you breathin'. Never for that."

"It wasn't your decision!" she snaps.

"I don't give a damn." He  _doesn't_ , not if someone else's decision –hers, Marlene's, it doesn't matter- meant her death.

She glares at him, hands balled into fists and eyes ready to overflow. He refuses to look away, no matter how much it tears him up inside, seeing her like this. He takes small comfort in the fact that there's no hate in her expression, no disgust. Anger, yes, and disappointment, but he can live with those. He can  _fix_  those, given time. He  _hopes_  he can, at least.

He watches all the fight leave her, trickling out slowly and leaving her empty. She doesn't speak as she turns on her heel and walks away. Not towards the front door, thank god, but still  _away_.

"Ellie, wait." He doesn't want her walking away angry. They need to get this out in the open, and they need to do it before it eats them both alive.

She pauses, not turning to look at him. "I can't, Joel." Her voice is too quiet, too subdued. He barely recognizes it. He swallows hard and does his best to brace himself, because this is  _it_ , he can feel it. This is where she cuts him out.

He must make some sort of sound, he's not sure what, because she turns to look at him then and his face must be something to see because her expression just drops completely. "Later, okay? We'll… Just not right now." And time starts back up again, just like that. Joel lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He doesn't want to push her, and he definitely doesn't have an argument for that, so he stays silent. He expects her to leave, to disappear into one of the other rooms, but instead she shifts uncomfortably. "Listen-" He waits. "I… I guess I should sleep in here? I mean, this was supposed to be your place and the bed…" she says, shrugging awkwardly as she trails off.

Whatever hope he had for a change of heart on her part flies right out of him. "Take the bed, Ellie."

She frowns. "But it's your-"

"Take the goddamn bed." He doesn't snap –he's too tired, too worn down to be angry anymore- but he's firm enough to ward off any arguments. Either that works, or he must look even worse than he feels, because Ellie relents in half the time she usually would.

She nods. "Thanks." She hesitates for another brief moment, before disappearing inside the bedroom.

"You're welcome," he mutters once the door clicks closed. He won't be able to sleep, anyways.

Tonight, at least he can pretend to be standing guard in case Tommy changes his mind –Maria might have assured him, but he won't leave Ellie's safety up to something as easily discarded as family loyalty- that he has every reason to stay wide awake. He doesn't want to think about tomorrow night, or the endless stretch of nights after that. He  _might_  be able to handle the days –she gave him the cold shoulder before when he pissed her off, he can manage it fine- but the  _nights_.

Even angry, she never slept too far from him while they traveled, in case they had to run. He doesn't even have  _that_  excuse to keep her close anymore. He tries his damndest not to think about all those unfamiliar places he slept over this past year, how they all felt as easy and familiar as home so long as Ellie was there beside him.

Guard duty, if nothing else, offers some relief. Even at night there's more sound to the town than anywhere he's been over the past year, and each unfamiliar shout and creak commands all of his focus. If he happens to be keeping an ear out for Ellie crying out because of her nightmares, then that's just habit. He hears nothing, and he's not sure why he doesn't feel relief.

He stares at the ceiling for hours, running through their conversation over and over again. The little broken sounds she made echo in his head and  _damn,_ what he wouldn't give for a nightmare to drown them out. The night presses in on him, and all he can do is  _remember._

It's fuck o'clock in the morning when he hears something  _close_. He reaches for his revolver, waits for the sound to come again. When it does, he frowns in confusion. Whatever it is, it's coming from  _inside_. He has a moment to be completely thrown, before he recognizes the sound of familiar footsteps creaking on floorboards.

He watches, dead silent, as Ellie shuffles in quietly. She's wrapped in the bed's comforter, pillow in one hand. She doesn't look at him as she lowers herself to the ground across the room and curls into a ball, and he's not sure if she thinks he's asleep or if she's pretending he is. Either way, he decides against breaking the illusion.

Her shoulders shake briefly – _Too warm for her to be cold_ , he thinks with a sinking feeling in his chest- and he nearly gets up to comfort her. Fear of breaking whatever fragile nighttime truce she's called roots him to the ground. He can't  _hear_  her cry, which is somehow worse. He's grateful when she finally settles and falls asleep.

The steady sound of her breathing fills the room, familiar white noise against the foreign sounds outside. Feeling calmer, steadier, he's sure he could sleep now if he wanted to.

He doesn't.

He doesn't sleep a wink that night, keeping his eyes trained on the bundle of blanket and girl that rests just out of reach.  _To make sure she's safe_ , he tells himself, but on the rare moments exhaustion catches up to him and he drifts off for a moment, he wakes with a start, suddenly sure she'll be gone and he'll be alone in the suffocating darkness again.

* * *

She's gone from the floor by morning, but she comes back that night, and the next, and the night after that. It's always the same; she comes hours after going to bed –hesitantly, always cautious like she doesn't want to but has no choice- and lies down on the same spot on the floor, never saying a word to him, never showing any signs of it in the morning. During the day, he thinks he's going crazy, that he's imagining her there, but then night comes and she tiptoes into his room like clockwork. He nearly calls her out on it a dozen times, but somehow he knows that the moment he acknowledges it is the moment she stops coming.

Every  _goddamn_  night, he can't fucking  _sleep_  until he hears her footsteps. Even then, he'll lie awake to make sure she settles, that she doesn't keep walking right out of the house and out of his life, or that she doesn't wake up from a nightmare afraid and alone. If the smudges under her eyes are anything to go by, she isn't much better off than he is. He doesn't know  _why_  she won't come earlier. Is the idea of being in his presence so awful that she has to wait until the last possible second to get enough sleep to function? The thought makes him sick with grief, and haunts him well into the daylight hours.

Nothing is alright, nothing is the same, but they still fall asleep to the sound of each other's breathing, and what the hell is he supposed to do with that?

The days are easier, but only just. Their first morning in Jackson, Tommy comes to the house and swears to keep Ellie's secret. Joel believes him, certain that whatever morality crisis his brother had over the cure pales in comparison to what he knows Joel would do if Tommy tried to take Ellie back. A strained sort of peace is reached, but Joel still notices how no one mentions the Fireflies, or the cure, or anything about his and Ellie's journey. Maybe the rest of their lives will just be pretending, acting like better people than they are.

But he's  _not_  a better man, he's not even a  _good_  one, and the only person who knows it better than he does is  _her._

And Ellie must be sick and tired of it, because she goes to talk to Maria at breakfast on the first day, and after that he barely sees her, except at meals and first thing in the morning. They don't talk. She doesn't grab his hand or elbow him, or rest her head on his shoulder. It's like they're strangers again; this time, though, he knows damn well what he's missing.

Tommy keeps him busy –Joel has the sneaking suspicion that it's at his wife's request- and he finds himself being dragged from one corner of town to another, being introduced and shown around like a goddamn tourist.

He hates it. He hates that he can imagine the snarky remarks Ellie would make about the people he has to play nice with, that he can picture the wonder on her face perfectly when Tommy shows him the town hall with the TVs all set up for movie night, rain or shine. He hates that he doesn't even know where she is, most of the time.

"She's with Maria, she's fine," Tommy assures him when he asks, that first day. Joel grits his teeth and shuts up, even though he wants to shake his little brother. What if something goes wrong? What if he needs to grab her and run? How the hell will he know where to find her? But he doesn't ask, because Tommy doesn't need to tell him that Ellie's not here with them now by her own request and Joel has to respect that. He has to give her all the space and time she needs. He  _knows_ , and he's doing it to the best of his ability. But  _fuck_ , he misses her something terrible.

To his credit, Tommy  _does_  try to make the whole situation less painful in the following days. While they go around town, he fills Joel in on the basics of life in Jackson, tells him about the people and shares more than a few stories that would have had Ellie doubling over in laughter -and Joel right along with her- if the situation was different.

Even when he's not playing tour-guide, Tommy is surprisingly helpful, which confuses Joel as much as he's grateful for it. His little brother has every right to be angry, or unsure; they haven't seen each other in years, and Joel didn't come back into Tommy's life a much better man than he left it, the fate of the whole human race shot to hell at his feet. If anyone told Joel twenty years ago –hell, even a year ago- that his little brother would jump at the chance to fill any little necessity he had, he would have laughed in their faces.

But Tommy's always been good, always valued family above everything, and whatever wrong Joel's done seems less important than the fact that he's alive. Joel tries to shove down the strange feeling squirming in his gut at all this  _charity_  but it's difficult. Being in debt to anyone, even his brother, sits wrong with him. But he needs all of it and he'll be damned if he lets pride get in the way of necessity.

Tommy supplies new clothes- right on time, since Joel finds himself  _missing_  clothes, which is strange as hell since he makes a point of keeping track of his belongings out of habit. He even brings over some books, many of which Joel leaves cautiously at Ellie's door, biting back a sense of minor victory when they're gone upon his return.

Thankfully, Tommy doesn't voice any surprise or censure at Joel's sleeping situation, just brings over whatever extra bedding he can scrounge up. He only mentions it once, during an afternoon spent trying to get Joel settled. "If you need another bed-" he starts, but Joel waves him off.

"I've slept on worse, little brother," he assures, nodding towards his cot. "'Sides, I don't use it all that much." Tommy winces slightly, and Joel kicks himself for giving his brother even more to worry about than he already has on his plate.

"You're sure?" Tommy asks, and Joel has to feel more than a bit of gratitude for that, especially since he knows how hard furnishings are to come by out here. Joel inclines his head in a nod, and he doesn't think he imagines Tommy's shoulders sagging in relief. "Ellie seems to like her new room," he offers after a moment. Joel arches an eyebrow, decidedly not mentioning the room's unexpected lack of use. "I mean, Maria's been helpin' her decorate and everythin'." Tommy shrugs. "I dunno, I just figured you'd wanna know. That she's… puttin' down roots, and all that. Makin' plans."

It takes Joel a moment to realize exactly what his brother thinks he's giving him –an assurance that Ellie is tying herself to this place, that he hasn't lost her completely-, and Joel smiles grimly. "If Ellie wanted to pick up and leave, ain't no room in the world that could keep her, Tommy." Face falling slightly, the younger man nods in acknowledgement. He doesn't try to placate Joel again, after that.

Out of all of Tommy's contributions, though, Joel's favorite comes to him after the first couple of days in Jackson.

"Just somethin' we picked up on a run after you left. I figured if you came back 'round, you might like to take it up again," Tommy mutters when Joel asks about it. "You weren't half-bad, back in the day," the younger man admits, and Joel smiles –as close to genuine as it's been for days- as he inspects the guitar. It's battered to hell already, the end of it held together by a criss-crossing of fraying duct tape, but the strings are intact and it's tuned well enough. He plays a few chords experimentally, and he huffs a pleased laugh at the familiar sound he gave up on ever hearing again long ago.

"Well, I'll be damned." Joel shakes his head in amazement. "Thank you," he says with genuine gratitude.

Tommy shrugs, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, well. Just think of it as a welcome gift. Hell, count it as an early birthday present, too. I ain't goin' through that much fuss again." Joel snorts out a laugh, picking a few more strings. "If you wanna stay and get reacquainted, I don't need you for anythin' else today," Tommy offers.

"Wouldn't want the boss to think I'm slackin'," Joel jokes. Truthfully, the idea of staying inside this place long enough to do anything productive with the guitar repels him. The house is too quiet, too  _big,_  enough so that it turns right back around and becomes suffocating. Just the thought of playing with nothing but the sound of his own voice echoing back at him is enough to have him craving fresh air.

Tommy doesn't laugh, his expression suddenly very earnest. "'S alright if you wanna take some time to relax. Might be good for you, havin' somethin' fun to keep-" He cuts himself off as Joel's gaze sharpens. "Keep you occupied," Tommy finishes.  _And keep my mind off of doin' anythin' stupid, I'm sure._  Joel suppresses a grimace, immediately guilty for the bitter thought, especially in the face of his brother's concern.

Joel knows he hasn't been the best company lately, that he should be grateful his brother cares enough to make an effort, but then he trails his fingers over the strings once more and all he can do is remember a promise made not long ago. The simple, unexpected happiness at discovering the instrument evaporates, leaving him to his regrets. She should be here with him, mouth running a mile a minute while she asks him how it works and how soon they can play it.  _She should be here._

Tommy has no way of knowing that Joel promised to teach Ellie how to play guitar, no way of knowing he's just reminded Joel of how badly he fucked up his last chance at something  _good_ , which is likely why the younger man seems so confused by the dark expression that crosses Joel's face. "Alright, brother?" Tommy asks.

"Fine," Joel mutters. "Just thinkin'." He half-expects to hear Ellie pipe up;  _"Don't strain yourself, old man."_  He can practically hear the words and the smart-ass tone they'd be delivered in, but Ellie isn't here, and the only reply he gets is Tommy's troubled frown. "Really, Tommy. I'm fine."

"If you say so." Tommy shrugs, his tone unconvincingly light. His gaze is thoughtful, and Joel refuses to meet it. "I gotta head over to the plant," Tommy says after a few moments. "If you wanna…"

"Yeah," he accepts. "I'll go, just gimme a second."

He sets the guitar aside after Tommy leaves, tossing one of the rattier blankets over it and piling his belongings around it. There's no point to it –Ellie only comes in at night, she's not going to see, and what would it matter if she did?- but some part of him still wants to keep it hidden.  _A surprise_ , he scoffs to himself.  _You want to surprise her. Sentimental old fool_. He thinks to rip the blanket back off, but he can't quite make the movement happen. Sighing, he heads out the door.

The guitar gets him thinking about everything he promised to do with Ellie after their trek was over.  _Thinking_  about it was one thing, but having the means to fulfill it? It's enough to have him second-guessing his decision to give her space and he wonders if it's time to start bridging the divide, which means that he actually has to be in the same vicinity as her.

He starts off as casually as he can manage, asking off-handedly what Maria's up to, if they need to stop by and ask her about anything. The look Tommy shoots him –a mix of exasperation and warning- proves he's nowhere near as subtle as he needs to be. That definitely doesn't stop him from trying. Tommy remains resolute, and eventually Joel just settles for plain honesty.

"I think I should talk to her," he says, not even bothering to clarify who he's talking about. "It's been a few days, maybe…" He trails off, unsure of what he's trying to say.  _Maybe she hates me a little less? Maybe she misses me?_

"Has she tried to talk to you?" Tommy asks, not even bothering to look up from where he's flipping through a battered old notebook. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't she the one who said she didn't want to talk?"

Joel grimaces. He doesn't need to be reminded; the entire scene is crystal-clear in his head. He could quote it word for word, if he wanted to. "Yeah, but-"

"Then she'll come to you when she's ready," Tommy interrupts. "You  _know_ I'm right." Joel scoffs. "Pushin' her now could ruin your chances in the long run, big brother. Let her blow off steam and get settled. I reckon everyone could benefit from a little bit of space. I  _thought_  that's what you were doin'."

"I know, I  _was,_ but Tommy, I gotta… I can't just let this…" He sighs in frustration. "I need to at least  _try_. If she don't wanna talk, fine. But I gotta know." But even as he says it, he thinks of the distant look in Ellie's eyes and doubts he'd be welcomed.

Tommy's expression flickers from sympathy to something strangely like shame. He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. "Maria's been talkin' to Ellie," he says finally. "Tryin' to help her out, I guess. Said she's real messed up 'bout the whole thing. You ain't exactly in a great place, either. Don't you think that maybe… maybe it'd be a good idea to let her do her own thing, and for you to do yours? For a little while, at least."

Joel swallows thickly, and he has to try a few times before he can speak properly. "Did she… did Ellie say that? She wants me to stay away?"

Tommy winces at whatever he sees in Joel's face and quickly starts backtracking. "No, not exactly. Accordin' to Maria she doesn't say much of anythin' no more, but…" He shrugs helplessly. "It's a hard time all 'round."

"No, I get it." And he does, he truly does. He knew that lying would have consequences. He knew that  _saving her_ would have consequences. She's alive, and she's safe. Those were always his priorities; everything else is secondary. That doesn't stop it from hurting like a bitch, though. "Just… tell Maria to look out for her. She gets too deep in her own head sometimes, ain't good for her." The fact that Ellie is keeping quiet worries him. Her sadness is always quiet, always curling up inside where it hurts her most.  _Your fault, all your fucking fault…_

"I'll tell her," Tommy promises. Joel nods slowly; his disappointment must be clear on his face, because Tommy smiles sympathetically. "It'll get easier, I promise. You just need some distractin', is all." Joel frowns. He doesn't  _want_  this to get easier; it shouldn't. The possibility of waking up one day and having this separated life seem  _normal_ … it terrifies him. He just nods at Tommy's words, not sure if he can trust himself to respond.

* * *

Joel is wrapped up enough in his own head after that conversation over the next few days that he doesn't notice what Tommy's doing, not at first. He assumes they're just working their way through all the people in the town, and Tommy decided to start with the women. Around the third time that his brother leaves him alone with one of them citing some 'little emergency' –not counting all the times Tommy drags him into a whole roomful and takes him around like he's an attraction- he finally catches on. He feels like the world's biggest idiot, because Tommy's been trying to set him up with girls since middle school and he should know the signs by now. Joel supposes he shouldn't be surprised that the habit survived the apocalypse.

"Absolutely  _not_ ," he hisses through his teeth after they leave the plant, having said their good-byes to the engineers –several of the women among them apparently met Tommy's criteria, which was shaping up to amount to: unattached, and breathing. "I can't believe you, Tommy. Jesus  _Christ_."

Tommy stares at him uncomprehendingly –bull _shit_ , he knows exactly what he's doing, the little bastard-, his eyes wide. "What? I'm just tryin' to help you adjust."

Joel snorts rudely. "Sure you are," he mutters. "Tryin' to set me up, more like."

Tommy shrugs. "Just wanna see you happy, big brother." Joel stares at him incredulously.  _Happy?_ When Ellie won't even look at him, when he hasn't heard her voice in days? How the hell is he supposed to be happy? Then it hits him; " _You just need some distractin', is all."_  Joel exhales slowly, resisting the urge to shake his brother until he can make him understand that this isn't going to  _fix_  anything, that he can't just be side-tracked by a pretty face when everything is so  _wrong_.

"Yeah, well. Stop it," he says instead, because it wouldn't do any good to try and explain himself. "I ain't lookin' for any of that, so you can just mind your own business."

"Just let me introduce you to one last person. She's a friend of mine and Maria's," Tommy says. "One more!" he assures when Joel opens his mouth to protest. "We need to head that direction anyways. Just the one, and then I won't bother you again." He looks so genuinely sincere that Joel finds himself relenting.

"One more, and that is  _it._ " He can handle one more round of mind-numbing small-talk if it keeps Tommy off his back. The last thing he needs is his little brother playing matchmaker when Joel has so much on the line.

Tommy hustles Joel over to the stables before he can change his mind, waving to a woman forking hay into troughs when they arrive. "Hey, Esther."

The woman straightens up, shoving her light brown hair out of her face and over her shoulder. "Hey-" She sees Joel and stops, before swatting at Tommy with her pitchfork. It's a good swipe; Tommy just barely manages to dodge, squawking like a ruffled-up bird. Joel chuckles under his breath, ignores the offended look Tommy sends him. "Damn you, Tommy Miller. You have to bring guests around when I'm covered in hay and manure? Really? What kind of manners are those?"

Tommy snorts. "He's my  _brother_ , Esther. He don't count." The woman –Esther, Joel corrects, he's going to have to start learning names sometime- snorts. She arches an eyebrow at Tommy when he remains silent, and he clears his throat. "Oh, right. Esther, this is my big brother, Joel. Joel, this is Esther Greene. She manages everythin' on this end, keeps the animals from runnin' wild."

"Yeah, and I work with the horses, too," she jokes. Tommy rolls his eyes.

Joel cracks a smile that's not as forced as it could be, and shakes her hand when she offers it. "It's a pleasure, ma'am."

She smiles. "Welcome to Jackson. Here to stay, this time?" Joel stopped being shocked by the question around the fourth time he was asked since arriving, having come to terms with the fact that these people don't seem to forget anything or anyone.

He shrugs, and gives the answer he's been giving for the past few hours. "We'll see." It doesn't feel right, answering the question without Ellie there. He shifts uncomfortably, acutely aware of her absence all over again.

His fidgeting doesn't go unnoticed, and Esther's gaze shifts immediately to the space at his side. "You weren't alone when you first visited, right? You had that little redhead with you.  _Hell_  of a shot; Maria wouldn't stop singing her praises for days. Is she shy?" She smiles, looking around as if expecting to see Ellie hiding behind one of the wheelbarrows. "I don't bite, I promise."

There's nothing in the woman's voice but open curiosity and friendliness, nothing to throw his guard up, but he still goes rigid at her words and how they call him out on his biggest failure to date. "She ain't here," he says, just a bit too shortly to be polite.

He watches as all the colour drains from Esther's face. "Oh, god. Is she… did she… I'm so sorry, I didn't-" He watches, torn between annoyance and confusion at the visibly distressed woman in front of him.

Tommy catches on before he does. "Oh  _Christ_ , Esther. She ain't dead. She's across town with Maria, relax." Joel says nothing, still reeling at the thought of Ellie being… of her not…  _No_ , he thinks firmly.  _That ain't in the cards for her, not anymore. I may have fucked everythin' else up, but I at least managed that much._

Esther relaxes visibly. "Oh.  _Oh_. God, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot. It's just… the look on your face when I mentioned her… I thought-"

"'S fine," Joel mutters, cutting her off before she can finish speaking. He doesn't need a play-by-play description of how fucking miserable he looks. There's a mirror in the house, he can look at it himself if he feels the urge.

"Listen Esther, I gotta run a quick errand for Maria and I was wonderin' if you'd mind lettin' Joel hang 'round here for a bit? I'd let him wander off on his own but, between you and me, he's a bit of a disaster."  _No kiddin'_ , Joel thinks bitterly even as they laugh.  _A huge fuckin' disaster, clawin' up everythin' good and spittin' it back out ruined. Seems 'bout right._

He stops himself –barely- from rolling his eyes at Tommy's transparent excuse to get them alone. Maybe he's not alone in his observation, because Esther winces. "You can talk to the horses, if you don't want to deal with my nasty habit of shoving my foot in my mouth," she offers with a hesitant smile. He huffs a laugh at that, reminding himself that none of the crap he's going through right now is her fault. Her next smile is relieved, and he figures he should at least  _try_  to make an effort.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he says, returning the smile.

"Well, I'll just be on my way, then." Tommy sounds far too pleased for Joel's liking, and when he turns to look at his brother, the smug grin on Tommy's face isn't comforting, either. "You two kids have fun."

"Come on, I'll give you the grand tour," Esther offers once Tommy leaves. For lack of options, Joel follows her as she points out the tack room –"In case you need to make another quick escape,"- the tarp-covered paddock that serves as the town's indoor arena, and guides him down the rows of stalls.

He  _does_  end up talking to the horses –completely Ellie's fault since she used to include Callus in their conversations constantly- moving up and down the rows as needed to get out of Esther's way. He finds himself debating without any conscious forethought which horses are the friendliest, the sturdiest, and yeah, the prettiest. In short; which would be best for Ellie? He drops the thought like it burned him the moment he realizes it, and he keeps his distance from the animals after that.

Most of the unused stalls are in states of disrepair –occupational hazard of post-apocalyptic living, he's sure- but then he comes across one in near-perfect condition despite its lack of occupant. "We haven't gotten around to refilling that one," Esther admits. There's a quiet sadness to her voice that makes him realize who used to live here. "I'm sure I won't like the answer, but… what happened to him?" she asks.

 _Hell if I know_ , he thinks. Ellie only ever gave him the most basic facts about what happened that winter's day, and there were bigger questions he needed answered then asking what happened to the horse. That, and the fact that Ellie looked so damn sad when he mentioned Callus.  _"He's gone,"_  she said, and that was all he could find the heart to pry from her. "Ran into some bad folks during the winter; he didn't make it. I'm sorry." He really is; it's stupid, but he's grateful to the animal for keeping Ellie company and sticking with her to the end.

Esther nods. "Thanks. It helps, to know what happened. I know he was just a horse, but I get attached. They grow on you, these guys." She reaches to rub the nose of an aging gray horse in the stall nearest to her.

"Callus was a damn good horse. We wouldn't have made it through the winter without him."

He expects a lot of different reactions from her, but definitely not the half-laugh she lets out. " _What_  did you call him?"

He knows she doesn't mean any harm –hell, he mocked the name more times than he could count at the beginning- but it was  _Ellie's_  name for the animal and he feels compelled to stick up for it now, to this stranger. "Callus. It was Ellie's idea, and it stuck. Why? What'd  _you_  call him?"

Esther grimaces slightly. "Brownie." Joel doesn't reply beyond a snort. " _Lamest name for a horse_ ever,  _am I right?"_ says a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Ellie.

Esther holds up her hands in a pacifying gesture. "I'm not knocking the name. It's  _original_ , I'll give it that. I might have to ask your girl to come down and help me with the rest; they're not exactly inspired, either."

Right on cue, a massive black horse with a white stripe down its face nuzzles his ear, looking for treats. Joel chuckles despite himself, sidestepping before it decides his shirt will work as a snack instead of a carrot. "And who's this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Esther crosses her arms. "Midnight," she responds evenly, resolutely avoiding eye contact. " _I stand corrected._ That _is the lamest name for a horse ever,"_ the Ellie-voice snickers. His gut twists painfully even at the imagined sound of her voice, and he plays up the ensuing grimace to make it work as a joke.  _Easier to hide it in plain sight_ , he reasons.  _No need to explain to the nice lady why I'm such a fuckin' mess._

"Good lord," he mutters. "You  _do_  need Ellie."

"Yeah, well. Let her know she's welcome to stop by and help out the creatively lacking. Now if you don't mind, I have hungry mouths to feed." He makes a go-ahead gesture and settles on a bale of hay out of her way.

Esther works around him silently after that, and he begins to think he might just be home-free until Tommy gets back. The only issue with that, of course, is that it gives him more time to think.  _To brood_ , Ellie would say,  _and be an idiot for no good reason._ She would be right, but since she's not here he figures she doesn't have the right to criticize him in the first place.

"So," Esther begins, breaking the silence and snapping him abruptly from his thoughts. "She likes horses?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah, she does." He grimaces at how distracted he sounds. "I reckon she'd like it here." He wonders if she  _already_  came here with Maria, if he missed the joy lighting up her face as she got acquainted with all the animals. He feels an ugly rush of jealousy at just the thought of it, and has to work to keep it off his face.

Esther shoots him a sympathetic look. "It's a hard age," she says. "We've all been there; every little thing is the end of the world, until it isn't anymore. I'm sure whatever it is, she'll get over it soon. Try not to let it eat at you."

 _You don't know_ shit  _about her, or us._ The violence of the thought is unexpected enough that he has to straighten his face back out of the almost-snarl it was approaching. He keeps his mouth firmly shut until the urge to say it passes, no matter how much he resents the implication that Ellie's totally justified avoidance of him is just some teenage girl tantrum.

She's so much  _better_  than that, so much better than him, and the fact that Esther can't see that irritates him beyond all reason.  _Ain't her fault_ , he reminds himself.  _What's Tommy gonna say if I start blowin' up at the townsfolk? Get us both kicked out if I ain't careful._  And then, very quietly, a small voice at the back of his head pipes up,  _What makes you think Ellie'd come with you if you got your stupid ass booted out? What makes you think she'd choose you over all this?_

"Joel?" Esther asks. "You okay there?"

He swallows the lump of anxiety in his throat, nodding. "It ain't her fault," he says. Esther regards him with some confusion, but doesn't interrupt. "Ellie ain't like that, she don't pitch fits for no good reason." It's  _important_ , somehow, to make this woman understand. This is  _his fault_ , dammit.  _He_  stole her back from the Fireflies,  _he_  lied to her face, and now  _he_  is damn well going to take responsibility for it. "It ain't her fault."

Esther nods, expression gentle. "Yeah, alright. Not her fault." The silence stretches, and he sees her grimace. "I'm sorry if I over-stepped, I didn't-"

"Honest mistake," he mutters. He doesn't sound all that convincing, but hell if he has the energy to try any harder than he already is. "That obvious, huh?" he asks, a wry smile tugging at his mouth. He supposes he'll have to get used to being an open book wherever Elle is concerned.

"Yeah," she says after a moment of deliberation. "Yeah, it is."

"Appreciate the honesty," he says. Esther nods, and for a moment he's sure she's going to try to say something comforting.  _Don't say she'll come around_ , he begs silently.  _Don't say it'll blow over, or that she'll forget._ Thankfully, she says nothing more on the subject.

Esther goes back to filling feed buckets, and for a while there's no sound but the grain hitting the metal bottoms. She pauses, looking up at him with a thoughtful sort of smile. She sets down the feed bucket in her hand and leans against the door of an empty stall. "What's the best type of story to tell a runaway horse?" she asks.

He snorts. "A tale of 'whoa'." He nearly laughs at her expression. "Ellie breezed past the horse jokes two days into ridin' Callus. Trust me, I've heard 'em all." He pauses, then adds, "Thanks, though."

"She's a joker then, your Ellie?"

A grin crawls onto his face unbidden, as he automatically runs through some of her best –or worst, depending on his mood- jokes. "She likes to try and get a laugh outta me every once in a while."  _She used to, at least. Don't know 'bout now,_ he realizes, grin fading.

"Does she succeed?" Esther asks. He thinks of all the times he brushed Ellie and her jokes off, how many times he dismissed this girl who just wanted to make him happy. He realizes with a jolt that he might never be on the receiving end of another one of her jokes. He nods, feeling strangely numb all of a sudden. "Alright, well tell me if you've heard this one before. Maybe I'll give you one to bring back to her and pay her back." When he doesn't say anything, she forges ahead. "What's the hardest part about eating clocks?" He shrugs. She grins. "It's time consuming."

It's a horrible joke. Ellie would love it to pieces, probably bust a gut trying to say it properly. "That'll crack her up real good," he says. He doesn't think it's necessary to add that he might never get a chance to tell it, not when Esther looks so pleased with herself.

"Hey, big brother! You ready to head out?" Tommy pokes his head around the open stable door, grinning like an idiot. "I don't mind waitin', if you wanna stick around."

"Reckon Esther's had enough of me," Joel says, before Tommy gets any ideas and starts searching for a preacher.

"Hope he wasn't too much trouble." Tommy's tone is only half-joking as he takes in Joel's somber expression.

"He was wonderful company," Esther assures. Tommy snorts disbelievingly. "Come back if you ever get tired of this one's jabbering, okay?" she says to Joel. Tommy makes a mock-affronted sound. "Bring…" she trails off, he assumes because she's unsure if she should say Ellie's name.

"We'll see how it goes," he says, because he doesn't have any other choice, does he? All he can do now is wait. "Thanks, Esther."

She shakes the hand he offers to her. "Good luck, Joel." God knows he's going to need it.

Tommy manages a whole five minutes of walking in silence before he starts slinging questions like bullets. "How'd it go? D'you like her? I thought you would, she's a great lady. Reckon she likes you too, invitin' you back like that."

Joel sighs. "You gonna let me answer, or you alright to do that, too?" Tommy shuts up and makes an invitational gesture. "She was real nice-" Tommy's grin widens. "I ain't  _finished_ , Tommy. She was real nice, but I told you I ain't lookin' for nothin' and that's as true now as it was an hour ago."

Tommy deflates. "But-"

"I said  _no_ , Tommy." He works hard to keep irritation out of his tone. He knows Tommy only wants to help him out, knows all this bother comes from a place of genuine concern and the last thing he wants is for them to fight over something this pointless.

The younger man huffs, relenting. "Fine, you stubborn old bastard. Have it your way." Joel snorts, highly doubting this is the end of the matter.

* * *

As the days pass, it becomes increasingly apparent that Joel was right; Tommy's surrender was far from actually  _being_  anything of the sort. Tommy starts off subtle –or as subtle as Tommy ever is. He asks Joel to join Jackson's militia, which suits Joel just fine; it's a circumstantial commitment, meaning he can kick all the enemy ass he wants when they're under attack without having to deal with the other members during peaceful times. Tommy hastens to explain  _that_  part, no doubt realizing how a formal unit would smack of the military, the Fireflies. "Just a bunch of people protectin' their home," Tommy tells him, and Joel can't find any fault with that. "'Sides, things've calmed down a whole lot out there since you first passed through. Just takin' precautions."

Joel nearly asks if Ellie can join, mind immediately jumping to how he'll need to have her close when all hell breaks loose, to have her watch his back as much as to know where she is. He doesn't ask, only because he's not sure if it's his place to ask on her behalf, anymore. If she wanted to join, she'd ask Maria, wouldn't she?  _Hell if I know, anymore._

Where Tommy gets smart: almost every Jackson inhabitant who knows their way around a gun is part of the militia. They don't have the numbers to be able to afford otherwise. Naturally, Esther is included among those ranks. Tommy sends Joel to the stables, suggesting he'll benefit from a first-hand account of how the whole thing works.

It's certainly creative, and he tells Esther as much when he arrives. "He gets points for effort, that's for sure," she says with a fair bit of amusement coloring her tone. He grudgingly agrees. She  _does_  explain him the basics; where the armoury is, where the weakest points on the fence are, how the group works –nothing Tommy couldn't have described, but Joel already knew that- and leaves him to his own devices until Tommy swings around again.

It's the first errand of many that sends him Esther's way, and Joel takes it as much in stride as he can. At the very least, going along with Tommy's scheming keeps Joel from being dragged on another tour of Jackson's available women. Besides, he's fond of the stables. They're comfortable, and Joel finds himself grateful to have somewhere quiet to go during the day. It's also the one place he knows Ellie would  _want_  to visit, and that has more to do with it then he would like to admit.

Well, he wasn't wrong.

"Your girl passed by this morning," Esther tells him, a few days after Tommy's latest matchmaking attempt. If she notices how he straightens to attention, she doesn't mention it. "Maria wanted to check on one of the pregnant mares. Ellie wouldn't come in, though." Esther stays silent for a moment, focusing on combing a stubborn knot from the old gray's mane. "She's a little thing, isn't she?" She frowns deeply at the horse's mane, pulling at a kink with her fingers. "She just stood out there, arms wrapped around herself. Looked so lost. I almost-" She trails off with a shrug, her expression tinged with regret as she looks to him.

He swallows with some difficulty, picturing with perfect clarity the scene Esther described; Ellie, alone in a town full of people and impossibly small in a world that's tried time and time again to swallow her whole.

"She didn't look too happy, either," Esther says. "She looked like-" She cuts herself off with a shrug, her eyes incredibly sad as she looks at him.  _Like you_ , he finishes silently. He'd bet good money that's what she was trying to say. Miserable, just like him. "I just thought you should know."

"Thank you," Joel says, and means it. He curses his bad luck for missing her, before it occurs to him it can't be a coincidence that Ellie showed up when he was absent. If he's quieter and even more distracted than usual after that, Esther has the good grace not to mention it.

* * *

When Tommy isn't sending him to Esther, his little brother always has some errand or project to keep Joel busy. Joel learns to live for Tommy's errand runs; they send him through town in every direction and sometimes, if he's lucky, he can catch a glimpse of Ellie on his way.

He half-heartedly tries to be subtle, but she catches him every time. Doesn't matter what direction he's coming from; she's always got her eyes on him before he's even seen her. He likes to think he sees her relax, just a little, when she sees him. Likes to think she feels just a little of the relief he does when she sees he's alright. He wonders if she looks for him too, before he dismisses the thought as pointless and above all,  _dangerous_. Hope like that will be what kills him, so he shuts up the ever-dimming voice of optimism in his head that tells him maybe,  _maybe_.

He doesn't  _want_  her to be hurting the way he is. The very idea of it is enough to make him sick. He wants her happy, no matter what the cost for him personally. Thoughts of her sharing his misery just add fuel to the burning hate he feels for this whole situation.

There are times he's dead certain the whole thing is going to crash down on him and crush him. Then there are times when he's sure that's already happened. He's not sure which option scares the hell out of him more.

* * *

Despite his best efforts, Joel finds himself with time to spare far more often than he likes. At these times, he uncovers the guitar and does his best to recall everything he knew Before. Playing inside the empty house is every bit as unsettling –as lonely- as he expected, but going out with the instrument in hand would mean risking being  _seen_  and… for all his self-berating, he still doesn't want Ellie to know about it just yet.

He finds he hasn't forgotten as much as he feared, and he manages to hash his way through more than a few old songs. Sometimes, he can even find a little enjoyment in it; lose himself in the music the way he used to.

There's one he's particularly surprised to have remembered, and he comes back to it more than a few times.  _"If I were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself…"_  He huffs something too bitter to be called a laugh.  _Not this old thing, again._   _It's been years._  Years since he last touched the damn thing –since he was the sort of man who'd spout sappy crap like that-, and yet he'd have a damn difficult time finding anything truer to his situation than this. It's pathetic and pointless, but he plays it every time he picks up the guitar.

He can almost find peace in the music, but without fail, his mind always circles back to the same moment, the same promise, as good as broken. She wanted him to sing for her, and he laughed her off even with more of his blood on the ground than inside him. Now, every song that comes to mind is measured as an option for a request that Ellie probably doesn't even want filled, anymore.

After that hits him, the guitar goes back under covers. He only reaches for it again when he gets desperate.

* * *

The nights are his only reprieve, and even then he buzzes with uncertainty. Ellie continues her late-night ventures into his room, and continues to pretend like it never happened the next morning. His body is feeling the strain of too-few hours of rest, but he doesn't care. He's lived on less before. He needs to see her settle before he sleeps and, if he's being honest with himself, he holds onto the hope- always that pointless, gnawing hope- that tonight will be the night she says something to him. It never is, but somehow that only builds the hope for the next night higher.

Something in him twitches unpleasantly at the sight of her sleeping on the hard floor every night, but all his efforts to make it otherwise have so far been in vain. More than once, he set himself up on the floorboards and waited, hoping she would take the cot when she came in. The first time he tried, Ellie barely paused at the threshold of the room before going to her usual spot. He wasn't certain, but he thought he heard her snort quietly in what he hoped was amusement. After that, she ignored his attempts altogether and eventually his lack of progress, coupled with the ache in his back, sent him back to his cot, defeated.

Comfortable or not, he rarely dreams, which he wakes grateful for every morning. The steady rhythm of her breathing and the rustling of her movements wards off the nightmares where she's stolen from him, either by death or her own choice. Ellie doesn't dream either, for which he's significantly more grateful.

Sometimes, a stray nightmare works its way into either of their heads and they'll wake up gasping. When that happens, the next morning neither of them will mention the way Ellie moves to the ground beside his cot so she can lean again the frame and hear his breath, his heartbeat, or the way Joel smooths a hand over her hair just once to assure himself she's there. He pretends his arm hangs off the bed by chance, and doesn't say a goddamn word when she wraps her shaking fingers tight around his own. It doesn't happen often, and never for more than a few minutes, and if questioned they would deny it happens at all.

And that has to be enough. It  _should_  be.

It isn't.

* * *

The strain was always obvious, but it gets worse, so much worse. Tommy notices, and Tommy worries. His brother offers to let him take a day off –"Go home and get some sleep, brother. You look like somethin' a Bloater spat back out,"- but Joel refuses.  _What home?_ he thinks but doesn't say, because Tommy is  _trying_ , trying so fucking hard to fit his big brother into this good, calm life and Joel doesn't have the heart or the energy to tell him none of it is working. It's not the last time Tommy makes that offer, and it's not the last time Joel turns him down; not by a long shot.

When Tommy starts outright refusing to let Joel help out until he starts looking after himself, Joel heads to the stables, unwilling to face the empty echo of the house. His offers of help are gently turned down, and he wonders if Tommy talked to Esther. When she mentions casually that he could catch some shut-eye up in the loft if he felt so inclined, Joel  _knows_  his brother said something. His refusal isn't as gracious as it should be, and after that Esther leaves him be. He pretends not to notice the quick looks of concern she keeps sending his way when she thinks he isn't looking.

The days crawl on and Joel remains, for all intents and purposes, grounded from doing anything useful. It's enough to make a man antsy, and it gets harder and harder to brush off Esther's concern when he can bear the stables -or Tommy's concern when he can't, which is less often because his brother won't stop  _asking_  and at least Esther shuts up and leaves him be- with anything approaching politeness, or at least not unforgiveable rudeness.

Joel expects to be booted permanently out of the stables –maybe the whole damn town- for his attitude, or for Tommy to snap at him to stop being such a grouch, but when Tommy joins him on his walk home the next day he's singing a very different tune. "So, you and Esther," Tommy ventures after a few moments. "You've been spendin' quite a bit of time with her."

"Guess so," Joel mutters.

"That mean you're… reconsiderin'?" the younger man asks hopefully. "I really think she'd be good for you, Joel.  _Settlin' down_  would be good for you; findin' a good woman, gettin' to livin' your life 'stead of just survivin'."

Joel stares at him, eyes wide. "Easy there, little brother. Don't be dustin' off any monkey-suits for me, now." He means it as a joke, something to clear the air and dispel the anxiety burning in his gut, but Tommy's disappointed sigh tells him his little brother would like to be doing just that.

"Joel-" Tommy begins, clearly on the verge of some lecture Joel  _definitely_ doesn't want to hear. How low has he sunk that his  _kid brother_  is lecturing him on getting his life together? Didn't he used to be the responsible one, the one with all the sermons ready when Tommy would stumble in drunk at three in the morning? Where the hell did those boys go?

Joel sighs. "Tommy, I  _can't_  right now, alright?"  _Not now, not ever_. "Esther's a good woman, but I can't. Not with everythin' so…" He shakes his head. How can he put any of this into words? "I just can't."

Tommy expression darkens. "You can't put your whole life on hold 'cause one little girl won't give you the time of day, brother." Joel stiffens. "You know I'm right, Joel. You two kept each other alive for a long time, I get that. You don't go through that without buildin' somethin'. But what you did –and I ain't sayin' you were wrong to do it- ain't gonna go away, either. Ellie's  _safe_ , brother. Ain't that what matters? Maybe… maybe it's time to let go. Settle down, be happy." And there's that goddamn word again.  _Happy_.

"So, you think we should do what, exactly? Just head our separate ways?" It doesn't escape him that he once told Ellie he wanted to do just that, and he would laugh if he wasn't trying so hard not to go off. He can hardly get the words out over the anger blooming in his chest. They're in public, there are people everywhere, and he has to keep his voice down.  _If he kicks you out, you ain't ever gonna see her again_ , he reminds himself. "Pretend like we never… like  _I_ never… like none of it happened? Like none of it  _mattered?_ What the hell, Tommy?"

The younger man stares at him, his expression impassive, and that's when it hits him. "You don't think she's gonna forgive me," Joel says with sudden clarity. "All that 'for a little while' talk was complete bullshit, wasn't it? You don't believe a goddamn word. I'd wager Maria don't, neither." He shakes his head, barking out a bitter laugh. "Fuck, I'm such an  _idiot_."

"I think… I think that Ellie is very, rightfully upset," Tommy says carefully, "and you can't spend your life waitin' for her to throw you a bone."

Joel narrows his eyes. "Reckon I don't much appreciate the comparison, brother."

Frustration flashes across Tommy's features. "Don't make it any less true. Have you even  _looked_  at yourself lately? You're fallin' apart in front of me, Joel, the hell d'you  _want_  me to say?" He scoffs. "Yeah, by all means keep moonin' over some girl you've barely known a year and killin' yourself runnin' through town just to  _look_ at her when she don't so much as breathe a word in your direction." Joel flinches. Tommy fixes him with an exasperated look. "You thought I didn't know? You think I don't  _see_? I do, I see a whole fuckin' lot, and it scares the hell outta me. Not that I've ever been able to stop you before. So, go ahead. Go right on ahead, brother. That it? That what you wanna hear?"

"What the hell d'you want from me?" Joel growls.

"I want you to be alright," Tommy says, the concern in his voice so thick it's nearly tangible. "I want you to  _move on_. I  _know_  you care about her, I know you want her with you, but brother…" Joel braces for the words he knows are coming. It doesn't help at all. "You gotta at least consider the possibility that she don't want you anymore."

Joel doesn't realize he's moving until he's right in Tommy's face. Tommy watches him levelly and if his little brother thinks he's about to get hit, he makes no move to defend himself.  _Ellie won't follow you out_ , Joel tells himself fiercely. He forces his feet back a step, and then another, choking down the urge to hit  _something_. "Don't," he mutters. His voice sounds too thick and too unstable even to his own ears. "Please," he adds, fully aware he's in no place to make demands.

A flicker of surprise passes over his little brother's face and as Tommy slumps, Joel is sure he's never seen his brother at so much of a loss for words or action. "I'm sorry," he says, and Joel believes him. Tommy doesn't have a genuinely mean bone in his body; he isn't saying these things because he wants to, which makes it infinitely worse. "Listen, I know this ain't easy. If it'll help, Maria and I have extra room. Ellie could-"

"No!" Tommy flinches at the sudden force in his brother's voice. At least a dozen heads turn in their direction. _Shit, take it easy, take it easy._ "She stays with me," Joel says, quieter. "I told you, she stays with me."  _Don't take her away from me, Tommy._  Unless… "Did she say somethin' to Maria?" he asks, fighting to keep his voice down even as panic grips him. Giving her space is one thing, staying away from her is bearable, but losing her entirely? Losing the tangle of blankets on his floor and the steady sound of her breathing in the dark? He can't lose the last connection he has with her, no matter how tiny it is. He  _can't._

Tommy sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. "Does she  _want_  to move out?" Joel asks again, voice rising. Tommy seems on the verge of answering him when his gaze suddenly becomes fixed on a point directly behind Joel. Ignoring whatever it is, Joel pushes further. "Dammit, Tommy! Does she want to  _leave_?"

"Everything alright here, boys?" Joel turns, biting back a growl at the interruption just in time. Maria stands before him, arms crossed and expression concerned. Joel bites back a grimace at how bad this must look to her; Joel standing with his hands clenched and his whole body radiating violence, shouting at Tommy like a lunatic.

He wonders numbly how much family counts for in this situation, how far he can push them –how hard he can fuck up- before they give up on him. They're close, so damn close to that edge he can  _feel_  it, and he can't blame them. Maria looks at Tommy, and there's a resigned expectance to that look that implies countless late-night conversations on Joel's behalf.

Something like shame nearly comes over him until he realizes what Maria's presence means, and then every other concern is forgotten. He looks around as calmly as he can, the inside of his head an endless  _pleasepleaseplease_. His begging is rewarded;  _there_. By one of the electric poles, Ellie stands uncertainly. She's already looking at him when he finds her, and her eyes meet his at once.

 _Say somethin', idiot_ , he urges himself. He can't; the words won't come. He wonders how much of the conversation she heard, and for a long moment he's terrified of her speaking up to tell him she's leaving his crazy ass for good. She's every bit as silent as he is, though, and he's not sure what that's supposed to mean.

He's vaguely aware of Tommy and Maria discussing something in low tones, but his focus is only on Ellie. She looks fine, he's relieved to note. The circles under her eyes still match his own, but aside from that she seems alright. He's not sure exactly what he was expecting; that she'd get into a fight? Trip and break an arm? Ellie's always been more than able to take care of herself. He knows that, but he still breathes easier having her whole and healthy in front of him.

Her eyes don't leave him even as they move, and the earlier beginnings of shame slam into him full-force when she rests her gaze at the fists resting at his side. He immediately unclenches them, but it's too late. She already saw. No disappointment or disgust taints her expression, much to his surprise. He hopes he doesn't imagine the concern that passes over her face.  _Say something._

"Ellie, we should get going," Maria says. Joel curses unintelligibly under his breath.  _Don't go_ , he thinks. Her eyes are still locked with his, and for a moment something like longing plays across her face and he thinks she's going to stay.  _Tell Maria you'll head back with me. Please._ "Ellie?" Maria prods gently when the girl doesn't respond.

Ellie lowers her gaze slowly –is she reluctant to leave, or is that just wishful thinking on his part?- and nods. "Yeah, I'm coming." She raises her hand in a half-hearted wave before heading after Maria. He returns the gesture a moment too late, and as he watches her go he kicks himself soundly for the lost opportunity to… to what? Have a heart-to-heart in the town square?  _Look back,_  he wills silently.  _C'mon, Ellie. Turn around, look back at me._

"C'mon, brother," Tommy says, clapping a hand on Joel's shoulder, voice every bit as tired as Joel feels. Joel nods, but remains where he is until Ellie turns a corner and exits his line of sight, without so much as a backward glance. "Joel, let's go." Tommy's tone is gentle, and when Joel looks to his brother he sees something close enough to pity to set Joel's teeth on edge.

 _Go after her, idiot,_  Joel berates himself.  _She's right_ there _, run after her and fix this. Make this right, make her stay._ His feet start moving almost before he gives the command, but Tommy's hand tightens on his shoulder, stopping him. "Joel," the younger man warns, his voice urgently low. "Don't do this to yourself, brother. Walk away, I'm beggin' you. It ain't worth it."  _She ain't worth it._  Tommy doesn't have to say the words to make them heard, and something too dark and ugly to be simple disagreement rises in Joel's throat.  _Of course she's worth it, she's worth_ all _of it._

He's so close, so goddamn close to shaking Tommy off and chasing after her. He doesn't care that he would probably be making the biggest scene in the town's short history, that he would look out of his mind and desperate as all hell, that it probably wouldn't work.  _He doesn't care._ But Tommy looks old and drawn beside him, and Joel is struck with the sudden certainty that his little brother is at the end of his rope, and if Joel pulls this stunt, that's it. Tommy is out of excuses for him, out of explanations and promises.

"Yeah," Joel mutters. "Yeah, I'm goin'." He follows Tommy away –far, way too far in the complete opposite direction of where he  _needs_  to be- and he can feel the distance like a noose around his neck.

He's subdued for the rest of the day, and Tommy has the good sense not to push him. Joel can feel his brother's concern like a physical presence, but he doesn't have the energy to put Tommy at ease right now. His little brother was always too good at sniffing out his lies, anyway.

When he gets home that evening, he nearly goes to check Ellie's room. The thought of finding it empty freezes him in place, so he keeps uneasily to his room. Every moment of uncertainty spawns new scenarios is his head, each worse than the last; she left, she moved in with Tommy and Maria, she can't stand the sight of him so she's skipping town. The idea of Ellie running around in the vicious outside world all on her own terrifies him more than any other option, and he decides right then that if it comes to that, he'll pack his bags and leave first.

He doesn't even bother lying down as the night crawls forward. There isn't one cell in his body that wants sleep, that  _could_  sleep. He can't help but listen for her, even if he has no idea if she's even in the damn house.  _She ain't comin'_ , he tells himself repeatedly.  _Don't wait for her, 'cause she ain't comin'._  He waits anyway, bitter disappointment already lurking on the edges on his thoughts, waiting to choke him the moment the sun rises on his empty room. Joel waits, and hates himself for it.

He doesn't have to wait long at all.

Either he's wasted more time worrying than he thought, or she's early. Ellie tiptoes into the room with her usual silence, and freezes when she notices he's awake –or at least, not pretending otherwise- and watching her. Relief crushes him in a landslide, and he doesn't even bother masking the emotion.

He knows he should lie down, at least try to maintain whatever fragile illusion this is all riding on, but he can't. He can't stop looking at her; not the sleep-tangled mess of her hair, or the slouch of her shoulders beneath the comforter, or the startled doe eyes she's making at him. He expects her to bolt back the way she came, or go to her spot on the floor. She does neither, standing for his scrutiny for what feels like ages.

The urge to get up and go to her –to touch her and make sure she's  _real_ \- is almost unbearable. It's harder than it should be to remind himself he doesn't have that luxury, not anymore. Instead he drinks as much of her in with his eyes as he can, and only when he convinces himself that she isn't a hallucination, some sick trick pulled on him by his own tired mind, is he able to lie down. He hears the rustle of blankets as she does the same.

Nothing is alright, nothing is the same, but she's  _here_  and if this is all she ever sees fit to give him, he'll take it and be fucking  _grateful_.

Then, so quietly he can't be sure he didn't imagine it, "Goodnight." He freezes for a moment. He turns to look and… and catches  _her_ looking. He opens his mouth, not even sure what he wants to say but sure that he  _should_ speak. What  _can_ he say?  _I miss your god-awful jokes and your stupid whistlin', I miss laughin' with you, I miss us, I miss_ you,  _dammit._

She stretches and turns over before he has the chance, moving so easily he'd think it was all intentional –that she just happened to be looking his way as she settled- if not for… for what? A flash of surprise on her face? A maybe-blush that he can't be sure of in the lack of light?  _You're seein' things that ain't there,_ he scolds himself.  _Just an old dog waitin' for a bone, like Tommy said._

"G'night," he responds, not sure if she's even paying attention to him. What felt like progress moments ago now just strikes him as a fluke, and he feels the exhaustion he's been evading dig its claws into him. He realizes Tommy was right in at least one sense; he can't go on like this for much longer. At some point, something will have to give out, and it's probably going to be him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a painful few days apart, Joel and Ellie work out some misunderstandings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter will show up as new, so for those of you just tuning in and confused as to why this completed fic has a new chapter, refer to the previous chapter for context. Basically, this is part of my edit of SOTM to make the series better than ever. Enjoy.

The next morning, he has to get away. He's not quite clear on the  _where_  of it, but he knows he can't stay in this house. He wanders for a little while, doing his best to avoid any prying eyes as he does. He manages well enough, aside from the pack of screaming kids who charge past him, squirting each other with water guns. His mouth tugs into a brief smile at the sight of that simple, uninhibited fun, and he feels a swell of pride at his little brother for helping to make a place that kids can be kids in.

He searches the crowd for a familiar red ponytail, just in case. Coming up empty, he doesn't know what to feel. He keeps walking. Tommy eventually finds him at the edge of the lake, throwing stones.

"You used to be better at that," Tommy says, coming up beside him. Joel doesn't reply. Somehow, he doubts a simple 'go away' will be enough to drive his brother off. "Mind if I join you?"  _Yes._  Joel shrugs. If Tommy is bothered by his older brother's silence, he doesn't show it. Tommy picks up a flat, rounded stone from the ground and sends it skipping across the lake's surface with a flick of his wrist. "All in the wrist, yeah? You taught me that. D'you remember?"

Joel does. It's an old memory, blurry around the edges, but he can recall them both at a lake not that different from this one, both decades younger and killing time on a slow summer's day. "Remember you houndin' me 'til I taught you, yeah." Tommy snorts, mouth twitching in amusement. "Always were a pain in my ass," Joel says.

"What're little brothers for?" Tommy quips, shrugging easily. Electing not to respond, Joel sends another rock out, this one skipping three times before sinking beneath the surface.

After a long, not entirely companionable silence, Tommy clears his throat. "Listen, Joel, 'bout yesterday…" He trails off, grimacing. "I didn't mean to… I-" He cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Say what you came here to say, brother," Joel says. "Ain't got patience for your stammerin'." The next stone is thrown with a bit more force than necessary, cutting sharply through the lake's surface.

"I shouldn't have said what I did," Tommy admits. Joel -having expected an order to pack his bags or, at the very least, a warning- is struck silent. "Wasn't my place, tellin' you how to live your life," Tommy continues.

The silence stretches. "Reckon you weren't wrong," Joel concedes. "Don't mean I'm gonna listen," he warns before Tommy can get any ideas, "but at least you were honest."

Tommy nods. "I know it ain't my business, but… last night, did you get 'round to-"

"You're damn right, little brother. Ain't none of your business," Joel growls. Tommy sighs heavily, seemingly unsurprised by Joel's reaction.  _He should know better,_  Joel thinks.  _Would I be out here if I'd patched things up with Ellie? Would I be talkin' to him if…_  "'Sides, weren't you the one tellin' me to walk away?"

Tommy winces. "Yeah, but-"

"And that's what I did. I walked away. I listened; figured you'd be damn pleased about it."

"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd listen? When have you  _ever_  paid me any mind?" Tommy argues. When Joel doesn't reply, he continues, "The way you were lookin' at her when she left… I figured you'd do whatever the hell you wanted."

Joel wishes it was that easy, but this isn't about what  _he_  wants. It hasn't been for a long time. "Then you figured wrong." Joel cuts Tommy off with a glare when he starts to protest.

"Alright, alright. No more pryin', I promise." Joel snorts, not believing him for a moment. Tommy shakes his head. "I gotta head back. You should go to the stables; ain't good for you to be alone right now."

"Don't need no baby-sitter, Tommy," Joel mutters.

"You know that ain't what I mean." Joel shrugs off the concern, and Tommy sighs. "Esther's a good woman, Joel. You said as much yourself." Joel levels him with a look, and Tommy throws up his hands. "Fine, I'm goin'. Relax." Considering they nearly came to blows the last time they discussed him and Esther, Joel is surprised at how easily the whole thing is dropped.

Tommy starts back towards town, and Joel allows himself to ease back slightly. "What's it gonna take to make you happy, brother?" Tommy asks, turning back suddenly to look at his older brother. Joel doesn't respond, gaze sweeping over the glass-smooth expanse of the lake. "What is it you  _want_ , Joel?" He's surprised to hear the desperation that colors Tommy's tone. Then again, maybe he shouldn't be.

A vague sense of guilt comes over him, and Joel sighs. "Nothin' you can give me," he says. Tommy looks pained, but Joel means it as kindly as possible. There's nothing Tommy can do, and there's no reason for him to beat himself up about it. "Ain't your burden to bear, Tommy. 'S alright."

"No, it ain't," Tommy mutters. "Ain't been alright for a while, now." There's no argument for that, and Joel doesn't bother to pretend otherwise. "'M sorry," Tommy says. "Thought you'd be happy here. I figured you could finally have a home, after all the shit you went through. I never thought…"

Joel shakes his head. "Nothin' you or anybody else could do. You did good with this place, brother, real good. You've helped a lot of people."

"The hell's the point in that, if I can't even help what family I've got left?" Joel is ages past anyone's help, but he doesn't see the point in telling Tommy that.

"Go home, Tommy." His brother seems on the verge of arguing, and Joel sighs. "I need some time to think, alright? I'll catch up with you later." Tommy's expression is troubled, but he turns and heads back to town without another word. Joel heaves a sigh of relief, grateful for the quiet.

Delighted shouting shatters the calm as some of the townsfolk dive into the far side of the lake, drawing his attention. A couple of girls around Ellie's age cannonball in, shrieking with laughter.  _There's another promise you're gonna break, old man,_ he thinks bitterly.  _Real good at that, ain't you?_ He backs away from the water's edge, suddenly feeling glaringly out of place and sure that whatever peace he was seeking isn't going to find him here.

For lack of options –he has no intention of following Tommy's advice and ending the day's solitary streak- he finds himself heading back home. Jackson is a bustling hive of activity around him, everyone going about their business as he cuts through town. A few vaguely familiar faces offer some gesture or word of greeting –these go largely unreturned- while the majority either walk past like he's doesn't exist, or gape like idiots and avert their eyes once they're caught.

While Joel doesn't care about whatever small-town curiosity his presence dredges up, he wonders if Ellie receives the same treatment wherever she is, and if it bothers her.  _I should know the answer to that,_  he thinks.  _I should know what's happenin' to her. I should be there while it's happenin', not waitin' to hear it second-hand hours later from Tommy or Esther or whoever the hell feels like throwin' me some scraps._ He swallows back the burning disappointment and keeps his head down, watching all the while for a bouncing red ponytail out of the corner of his eye.

No one attempts to strike up a conversation, thankfully; he doesn't think he could bear to act whatever part they all expect of him. The privacy of his own place proves a welcome relief against the bustle of the town, and he finds himself almost glad when the door shuts behind him. He pauses at the threshold, half-hoping and half-dreading to hear movement from Ellie's room. The house is silent.

He paces, skin crawling with disquiet. He feels like a goddamn zoo animal, the urge to bolt out and  _away_  so strong he can hardly bear it.  _Why the hell not?_  he wonders, slowing to a stop as the sudden thought seizes him.  _Why not leave? What's keepin' me here?_  For a moment, he allows himself to imagine it.

He could leave tonight, if he wanted to. Who would come after him? Tommy would turn the town upside down looking for him, but he wouldn't chase after him once he realized Joel quit town of his own accord. Hell, Tommy's life would probably be a whole lot easier without him in it.  _Not just Tommy's…_ Joel doesn't have to look too far to see all the trouble, all the grief he's caused just by being here.

He'd fade from Jackson's memory quickly enough, remembered by the occasional reminiscing of his brother or the brief mentions of the townsfolk;  _"Hey, what happened to Tommy's brother? The one with the hair-trigger temper?_  " By then he'd be long gone, headed… where? Back to Boston, back to smuggling? It wouldn't be a small trip; he guesses he'd have a fifty-fifty chance of making it alive, if that.

He could die, and no one would be any the wiser. Once, that was exactly what he wanted; no ties to anything or anyone, no one to mourn or to mourn him. It was better that way.  _Not better,_ admonishes a little voice at the back of his head,  _easier. There's a difference, and you damn well know it._  He  _does_  know, but that doesn't matter and it sure as hell doesn't fix anything. Besides, hasn't he  _earned_  a little bit of something easier than all this?

He  _could_  go. He's practically packed already; twenty years of habit, of preparing to run at any moment, isn't broken so quickly. He goes as far as reaching for his backpack, pulling it front and center from where it sags against the covered guitar.  _Grab it and go_ , he urges himself.  _What the hell's stoppin' you?_  Nothing.  _Everything._

 _You ain't got nothin' here, fool. Ain't nobody gonna miss you, least not for long._ He thinks of Ellie slipping into his room tonight to find it empty.  _She don't care. She sleeps by you out of habit, not 'cause she wants too. She'll learn to do without it, just like she's learned to do without you_   _everywhere else in her life._ But it hasn't even  _been_  that long, he still has a chance.  _Long enough to know she ain't changin' her mind._

It's far too easy to imagine her waking up screaming, completely alone, but he reasons that he's not abandoning her in the middle of nowhere. Tommy and Maria will look out for her.  _Not like you would. They can't understand her like you can._ He scoffs, because he's being ridiculous. She won't even look him in the eye, won't even speak a word to him unless it's under cover of darkness. Why the  _hell_  should he stay for her?

Tommy's caution rings clear as day inside his head;  _"You gotta at least consider the possibility that she don't want you anymore."_ What proof has she given him otherwise? Whatever she said to Maria convinced her and his brother that he needed to stay away.

If anything, she  _wants_  him gone, not that she would ever admit it. Even if she hates him, she would never ask him to leave safety for her sake. Ellie's too good for that. This could be his last gift to her, his last apology; make a good, clean break that leaves her guiltless. Maybe, if he's lucky, she'll remember him fondly for it.

 _But you promised._  He made a hell of a lot of promises; to teach her to swim, to play guitar, but most important of them all…  _"Well, I ain't leavin' without you."_ His promise, and hers;  _"We stick together."_ He tells himself that was all  _before_ ; before he lied to her, before she cut him out of her life like he was something rotten eating away at her. None of that means anything anymore.

 _She comes back to you, though. Every night, she comes back. That ain't nothin'._ Just like that, the illusion of leaving, of escape, shatters to pieces. He won't, can't, leave her; even if all he gets is the occasional whispered goodnight, her hand in his when he wakes up choking from a dream, a brief glimpse of her face once in a while. For all his bitterness, he knows she's faultless in this. She still lives under the same roof, even if he barely sees her. She's still  _here_. All of that has to amount to something.

The fight flies right out of him, and he knows with perfect clarity that he would never have walked out that door, out of her life. He can dream, he can try to imagine life beyond this, beyond her, but it won't ever come to anything. He's tied to her, whether he likes it or not, for the rest of his days, and it doesn't matter if he chokes on it.

 _You're a pathetic excuse for a man, Miller_ , he thinks with more resignation than regret. He drops his bag, maybe a little more forcefully than he could have, and sighs deeply. "Fuck," he mutters. He stands there uncomfortably for a long moment –still a stranger in his own house, still a trespasser in someone else's civilization no matter how hard he tries- before finally reaching for the guitar.

He takes it outside to the back porch, facing the soaring mountainside and endless stretch of forest that would be his backyard, if not for the fencing. Not for the first time, he silently thanks his brother for ensuring he got some space. He plays mindlessly, sometimes missing notes entirely, sometimes singing and sometimes not, sometimes humming an entirely different tune to the one he's strumming out.

He finally settles on a song – _the_  song, naturally- and he plays for what feels like hours. Singing it out loud, even to himself, exposes him more than any physical wound ever could. He  _knows_  the feeling of his insides trying to escape his body, and that would almost be preferable to… whatever the hell  _this_  is. He doesn't know why he picks up the chords again, why he just doesn't switch to another song, but he keeps playing until the sun starts to fade in the sky. The music sits  _right_ , if not entirely comfortably.

The slam of the front door startles him and he stares wide-eyed at the guitar, as if it will somehow give him away. He barely dares to breathe until he hears Ellie's light footsteps fade away. He wonders –not even hope, at this point, just wishful thinking- if she might have heard him, before dismissing the thought as forcefully as he can.

He makes a half-hearted attempt at picking up where he left off, but his fingers feel awkward and stiff against the strings. He gives up, figuring there's too little daylight left for him to make any real progress. If he moves slower than usual, it's because he's stiff from sitting so long, and if he shuts the door as softly as he can… well, there's no reason to startle the girl, on the off chance she can hear.

Once inside, Joel doesn't bother to cover the guitar back up, letting it rest against the wall by his cot. His backpack still slumps to the floor where he left it, and he shakes his head at his foolishness.  _As if you could ever leave. The only way you get out of this is in a goddamn coffin,_  he thinks without bitterness.

There's a heavy ache in his chest, though, and he finds himself wondering what the consequences of walking to her room and knocking on her door would be.  _She'd ignore you. Maybe tell you to fuck off, if you're lucky._  He could handle that, couldn't he? Even if she cussed him out and screamed at him to get out, at least he'd know where he stands in this mess. Unless… unless he manages to make it all even worse, to push her away even further by breaking whatever unspoken rules she set on their first night in Jackson.

He could wait a while, just be patient and wait for her to come to him. He could. Hell, he probably  _should_. Playing on Ellie's terms is the safest way, and the last thing he wants to do is push too hard, but  _Christ_ , he doesn't want to keep doing this, not with her.

After all this time spent running himself ragged debating  _if_  he should talk to her,  _how_  he should approach her, he figured he'd at least have some sort of game plan when the time came. Instead, he finds himself outside Ellie's door, with one hand raised to knock and absolutely no strategy to think of.

The door is wide open, and she's hunched over the desk, writing something. She doesn't acknowledge him, and for a moment he nearly turns back. Now's not the time, he can try again later…

 _Fuck this shit. You're a grown-ass man, Miller. Fuckin'_ act _like it_. Still, he pauses. Ellie shifts in her seat, startling him. He thinks he hears her humming under her breath, and he smiles a bit despite it all. Christ, what is he doing? It's just Ellie. What the hell is he so afraid of?

She asked him that same question the last time they were here, and he's no more prepared to answer it now than he was then.  _Don't fuck this up._

Joel knocks.

* * *

He exits Ellie's room sometime later –not nearly late enough, he'd have stayed for hours if she'd let him, but he's said his piece and he has to give her time to process- feeling uncertain but also relieved in a way he hasn't felt in weeks. He did what he could; the rest is up to Ellie, now. He thinks of her reaction to the song – even though he didn't mean to make her cry, and the urge to hold her until she calmed made his fucking hands shake- and of her laughter at Esther's joke -he makes a mental note to thank the woman later, maybe even with Ellie in tow if he's lucky- and he dares to hope that there's still something to salvage between them.

Part of him worries he came off sounding like an idiot, fumbling over his words like a goddamn schoolboy and singing with his heart in his throat, but he reasons that there's nothing to be done about it now.  _She took the guitar_ , he reminds himself. Her acceptance wasn't a promise, not exactly, but it was enough to set that persistent hope burning hot enough to scald inside of him.

He wonders if she'll come tonight, or if he just changed the rules. He has no idea where they go from here. He forces himself to lie down, despite the fact his skin is crawling with the restless urge to  _know_. Pacing a rut into the floorboards isn't going to help him any, and if the game is about to change he'll need his rest.

He's still staring at the ceiling when he hears the knock on the door. He's immediately up and wary; no matter how many times he tries to tell himself this place is safe, no matter how many times he's made Tommy swear up and down that it is, he can't shake the instinct. He grabs his revolver, just in case, almost grateful for the distraction.

He's not entirely surprised to see Tommy staring back at him once he opens the door, and he drops the hand holding his gun harmlessly to his side. Tommy seems unsurprised at the gun, barely appearing to notice it as he faces his older brother. Joel watches in confusion as Tommy relaxes visibly, relief coloring his expression. "Somethin' you need, brother?" Joel asks.

Tommy stays silent for a moment before clearing his throat. "Right, yeah. I wanted to talk to you 'bout tomorrow."

Joel arches an eyebrow and leans against the doorframe. "'M I still grounded, or are you finally gonna lemme do somethin' useful?" He's not exactly sure which answer he wants. On the one hand, he might go stir-crazy if he has any more time to be too far in his own head, but at the same time he doesn't want to be too far from home tomorrow, on the chance that Ellie wants to continue their conversation.

Tommy regards him critically, which is fair enough since, while Joel certainly doesn't look any worse than before, he hasn't exactly made any massive strides towards improvement, either. "Yeah, that ain't happenin' just yet. Not 'til you've figured your shit out." Joel grimaces slightly, and Tommy softens, his next words teasing. "Can't have you passin' out in the middle of town and makin' everyone think I'm workin' my own flesh and blood to death."

Joel snorts. "'M fine, Tommy. You can stop your fussin'."

"Did I wake you up?" Tommy asks, his words more challenging than concerned. Joel doesn't answer, and the younger man hums knowingly. "Figured as much." Tommy looks up at the dark sky. "It's late, brother. Ain't surprisin' you've been a walkin' corpse lately, if you've been keepin' these hours."

"If it's so damn late, then shouldn't you be at home, botherin' your wife instead of me?" Joel mutters. "'Less you've actually got somethin' important to say?"

"I'm headin' home in a minute. Just wanted to remind you that you're supposed to be havin' some downtime, takin' it easy."

"You came all the way here just to tell me to take it easy?" Joel asks, disbelief clear in his voice.

Tommy shrugs, crossing his arms defensively. "What, a man can't visit his brother once in a while?"

"Don't need you checkin' on me, Tommy," Joel reproaches. "I ain't no little kid." Tommy looks like he's about to disagree, but the look Joel shoots him seems to make him reconsider. "Go home, little brother. This town ain't gonna run itself while you play babysitter."

Tommy nods, but hesitates in making any move to go. "I… well, I ran into Esther today, after we talked at the lake. She wanted to know how you were holdin' up. Figured I should pass on the message." When Joel offers no comment, Tommy sighs. "I really think she likes you, Joel."

"Seems to me we've had this conversation before," Joel reminds him. "Can't say I've got the patience for another round." Tommy gears up to protest, and Joel barely bites off a growl. "Dammit, Tommy. It is  _late_ , I am  _tired_ , and I ain't got the slightest desire to keep beatin' this dead horse with you, alright?"

"I know, dammit. I  _know_. Just hear me out for a second, would you? I ain't doin' this for my health, you stubborn old-" He trails off abruptly, and Joel takes the moment of silence to restrain himself from putting his little brother in a chokehold and leaving him unconscious on the porch until morning.

At first, he assumes Tommy has come to his senses about pushing his trigger-happy brother too far, but then…

"Joel?" calls a soft voice. Tommy's eyebrows rise straight into his hairline, his eyes moving from Joel's abruptly frozen expression to a point behind the older man's shoulder. Joel turns around slowly, not entirely convinced he's not hearing things.

She stands in the doorway, hovering uncertainly. She doesn't have the comforter with her, arms wrapped around herself as if to ward off cold. She's changed for bed, wearing a worn flannel shirt and some old sweat pants that sit way too wide on her hips and- oh.  _That's where those got to_. He stares like an idiot, and the room is completely silent until her gaze flickers to the person behind him. "Oh. Hi, Tommy," she says, flushing slightly.

"Hey, kiddo," Tommy greets. "Haven't seen you 'round that much. How're you holdin' up?"

Ellie shrugs. "I'm fine." Tommy doesn't comment at first, even though she looks everything  _but_ fine, shifting back like she wants to bolt, with her eyes red from crying. They look worse than when Joel left, and he feels sick at the thought she cried more after their talk, because of him.

"Seems I've been hearin' that a whole lot, lately," Tommy muses, looking pointedly over at Joel. "What're you doin' up, kid? Did we wake you with our yammerin'?"

Ellie shakes her head. "No. I… um, I was just…" She shrugs again, the movement almost entirely lost in the shirt that swallows her up. She looks over at Joel. "I just thought… I mean, if it's okay…"

"'Course it's okay," Joel assures her quickly, before she has to go into any detail about their sleeping arrangements.

Ellie nods, the smallest smile crossing her face before fading just as fast. Tommy looks between the two of them, the question clear in his hopeful expression as he focuses on Joel. The older man shakes his head and shrugs. He doesn't have the answer Tommy is looking for, not really. He's just as shocked as his little brother is to see Ellie speaking to him in front of company.

"Right, then," Tommy says, clearly confused. "I'll just… leave you to it, then." Joel has a feeling that he'll be asked to explain this later, but he can't bring himself to feel concerned when Ellie is  _here_. "Listen, brother, 'bout what I was sayin'-"

Joel snaps his attention back to his brother abruptly. "Tommy," he warns, his voice dangerously quiet.  _If you bring this up in front of her I ain't gonna be held responsible for the damage I'll do to you_ , he thinks grimly _._ Mentioning Esther and telling Ellie about Tommy's meddling is one thing, but this… he won't have this. He can't say  _why_ for the life of him, but it feels wrong. Ellie must hear the threat behind his tone, because he hears a sharp little intake of breath from behind him.

Tommy holds up his hands. "Was just gonna tell you to forget it, is all."

Momentarily stunned, Joel stares at his brother with clear disbelief. "That's it? You wouldn't stop houndin' my ass and now it's done, just like that? Figured you'd have a whole damn speech prepared." He thinks of their confrontation in the town square, of Tommy's quiet warnings and Maria's concern, and he can't make it all add up. Settling Joel down with Esther seemed to equal stability in Tommy's head, and now he's just giving it up?

Tommy fixes him with a level look. "Don't matter none, not now. Came here to get an answer outta you, and I did."

"The hell's that supposed to mean?" Joel asks. "I didn't tell you anythin'."

Tommy shrugs. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'll be on my way, now. Figure it ain't my company you want." He nods in Ellie's direction. "G'night, Ellie."

"Night," she responds, and Joel turns back and yeah, she's still there. Still real, dwarfed by his old clothes and waiting by his door like she's expecting a rejection with an expression that's breaking his fucking heart.

If Tommy tries to say good-bye, he doesn't hear it. Joel's distantly aware of the door clicking shut, and then there's silence except for the beat of his blood in his ears.

"Hi," Ellie says. She tugs at her –his?- overlong sleeves nervously.

"Hey." He keeps his voice soft, almost certain that he'll scare her off otherwise. "You alright?" She nods slowly. "You sure?" he persists, not at all convinced. She pauses, and then shakes her head.

"I can't sleep," she admits. She laughs quietly, the sound too bitter to be coming out of a young girl's mouth. "Big surprise, right?"

"Ellie…" he begins, but he honestly doesn't know what to say.

"I can't sleep," she repeats. "I don't really want to, either. Not in there."

"You don't have to," he assures her. "Nothin' has changed, Ellie. You can sleep here. 'M sorry if I made you think any different."

"I… I really don't want the floor tonight." She shifts her feet in embarrassment.

Joel grimaces, already kicking himself for his stupidity. "'Course you don't. Take the cot. I would've given it to you before, but I thought you didn't…" He trails off and she starts shaking her head.

"That's not what I meant," she says, and he wonders if the frustration in her tone is aimed at herself or at him. "I don't want that either."

"What is it you want, then?" He'll find a way to make it happen, whatever it is, but he keeps that to himself. Vocalizing it might come off just a bit more desperate than he's comfortable with sounding.

Ellie starts to respond, but the sound cuts off and she shrugs, wrapping her arms tighter around herself and looking away. "I thought that… you might be awake too, and maybe… you wouldn't mind if I sat with you for a little while?" Before he can respond, she rushes ahead. "I was already heading here when Tommy showed up; I swear I wasn't trying to listen in or anything. And if you're tired or you need more time to think or whatever that's cool, I can just go back, it's fine."

Joel huffs softly. "Figured you'd be wantin' to think things over, not me."

"I did. And I decided I wanted to be here, so…" She looks up at him with that same hesitant expression, and the thought that she expects him to shut her out just knocks the air right out of him.

Joel nods towards his cot. "C'mon, then." Her smile is still just a little thing, but it's progress, and so damn beautiful he can barely take his eyes off of it.  _Mooney-eyed idiot._ He clears his throat quietly, breaking eye contact and grabbing his pack before either of them can trip on it, tossing it back to its place against the wall. He settles down onto his cot, expecting Ellie to join him quickly. When she doesn't, he looks to her in confusion. All the color has gone out of her face, whatever trace of happiness he saw moments ago completely faded. "Ellie?"

She stares at his pack like it's about to bite her. "Are you leaving?" she asks, so quietly he barely hears her. Even then, he can't get the words to make sense.

"What?"

"You never leave it out in the open like that unless you're going to need it soon." She backs up a few steps, and he rises to his feet slowly. He doesn't follow her, sure that invading her space won't help matters. "Were you even going to tell me? Or were you planning on sneaking out and being gone by morning?" She shakes her head violently. "I'm such a fucking  _idiot_. Was that why you came to talk to me? Was that your idea of a good-bye? You said… I thought…"

"I ain't goin' nowhere," he assures her, on the edge of panic as he realizes the state she's working herself into. The uncertainty in her eyes hits him worse than a physical blow, but she doesn't move away when he approaches her. "Might be that you don't have much reason to believe me, but it's true. I just wanted to talk, before. That's all. No good-byes, I promise."

He expects more resistance, expects her to call bullshit and keep pushing, but she just nods. "Okay." He grimaces at that loaded word, and even though he never would have left her –never could have found the strength to do it- shame burns under his skin. "Not like it's any of my business, anyways," she mutters.

"Reckon it's just as much yours as mine," he says. Her eyes widen slightly, and he shrugs. "Promised you I wouldn't leave." He plans to leave it at that, nearly does, but his tongue jumps ahead of his brain and he adds, "Not unless you want me gone." It's as much an offer as anything else, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he'll have to abide by whatever decision she makes.  _You fuckin' moron. Why'd you have to go and say a stupid thing like that?_

He doesn't expect her anger, of all things, and the spark that lights in her eyes catches him off guard. "You're all I have left, you bastard," she snaps. "A shitload of things have changed since the last time we were here, but that sure as hell isn't one of them. What part of you ditching me would be something I'd  _want?_  You wanna fucking explain that to me, Joel?"

He has to take a moment to process her words, blinking like a fool until he remembers how his vocal chords work. "It's different now," he mutters, not even sure why he's pressing this. "Ain't just the two of us; you've got people lookin' out for you."  _Stop it, stop it, you idiot. Why're you tryin' to convince her? What's wrong with you?_  It's about as productive as tearing open an almost-healed wound but it feels  _good_ , in the same sickeningly satisfying way, to be in control of how he's hurting himself, for once.

Ellie shakes her head. "It isn't  _like_  that. Maria is nice, and she cares, but she doesn't get it. And maybe it's different for you, spending time with that woman and hanging out with Tommy. Maria said to leave you to it and I  _tried_ , I stayed as fucking far from the stables as I could, even when she headed over there. But whenever I saw you I didn't think you  _looked_  happy and I thought… maybe it's not the same for you, but I look at all these people and none of them understand. If you left, I'd just be…" She trails off, shrugging helplessly.

"Ellie, I…" She doesn't even have to cut him off to shut him up. He doesn't have a reply for that, can't find something that won't sound brittle and hollow against the brutal emotion she just hit him with.

"Where the  _fuck_  do you get off leaving me, anyways? After all the shit we went through, everything you did to stay with me, you call it quits  _now?"_ Her eyes are shining too brightly again and fuck, why won't she just  _listen_  for once?

"I ain't callin' it quits," he says, struggling to keep his voice level. "I'm right  _here_ , Ellie."

"No," she says, her voice an open wound. "You're not. You  _haven't_  been 'right here', not since…" Her voice breaks, and she cusses quietly, dragging her sleeve across her eyes. "You have no idea what it's been like," she says, and she just sounds  _broken_.

"Like hell I don't," he growls, startling the both of them. "You think I haven't hated this? If you had any  _idea_  how many times I nearly tracked you down to talk to you…" He shakes his head. "But I didn't, 'cause you ran out on me the first night here and then you disappeared with Maria and you didn't want me. And I took it quietly, 'cause I knew you were hurtin' and you needed space. I was gonna come find you after a few days, but Maria told Tommy she thought you needed time to yourself, and I…" He breaks off, hands  _aching_  to hit something. "What the  _hell_  was I supposed to do? Couldn't make you talk to me if you didn't wanna."

"You could have tried!" she shouts. Her eyes widen the moment the words leave her throat, and he's willing to bet that the outburst wasn't planned.

He should tell her to lower her voice, to calm down because it's late and if they wake the town up with their hollering it won't be pretty, but it feels  _good_ , after days of reining himself in and trying to be someone he's not. He lets her vent her anger, keeping the peace be  _damned_.

"Yeah, I was pissed, I still  _am_ , but I didn't… I didn't think you'd let me keep it up. I thought you'd be up at the wall dragging me back by the collar before the first day was over. But you weren't. You didn't. I looked for you  _everywhere_ , no matter where I was, but the only time I saw you properly was when you were about to beat the shit out of Tommy in the middle of town."

Her expression pales slightly as she remembers and he looks away, shame and self-disgust burning in his throat.

"And you looked like  _hell_ , Joel," she snaps, but he can see the worry in her eyes. "Fuck, you  _still_  look like you got hit by a fucking tank and  _I don't know why_. All this shit's been happening to you and I have no fucking idea about any of it. And you… you looked right at me that day, and you didn't say a fucking thing."

"I wanted to." His voice comes out quiet, and somehow that seems to jar her more than shouting. "So bad that I nearly decked my brother over it. But I didn't see you tryin', either. You didn't want nothin' to do with me, remember? You left." He's trying, trying so damn hard not to be angry at her for it, because he knows the whole mess is his fault, but how  _dare_  she blame him for leaving her alone when  _that's what she fucking wanted in the first place._

"Yeah, and I fucked up, okay?" she snaps. He's ready to bite right back when her words sink in.  _What the hell?_  "Is that what you want to hear, jackass?  _I fucked up._  Storming off felt good for all of five minutes before I realized I was alone. But by then I couldn't just turn around and take it back, and I half-expected you to just barge in anyways and tell me off. Then Maria asked for my help on the wall and Tommy dragged you off and that was that. I wanted to talk to you so fucking badly, but Maria kept roping me into things and I think she would've tried to stop me if I'd tried because… I was a goddamn mess, and I guess you were too, and I think she was worried. I didn't even know where the fuck you were or if you even  _wanted_  me to find you or if you needed space and…" She breaks off, shoulders shaking.

It takes a while for Ellie to compose herself, hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of her sleeves. Joel doesn't rush her. They stand there in miserable silence for much too long, neither knowing what to say.

"The worst part," she mutters, the anger gone from her voice, "the fucking worst part is that I  _missed_  your stupid ass. Even though you're a dick, and I should hate you, because what you did was  _not_  okay." He starts to protest, but she waves him off. "Yeah, I fucking get it. You're not sorry, you'd do it again in a heartbeat. I know. It was still a dick move, and I still sorta want to kick your ass, but I don't want to talk about it tonight." Whatever fight she had in her is gone now, and he feels his own tension begin to leak out in kind.

"Alright," he agrees, gentling his voice to diffuse what's left of the tension. "Tomorrow, then." She makes a face, and it's difficult not to mirror her expression. He doesn't want to talk about it either, but his actions, his lie, have been left to fester for too long already. "I ain't havin' that between us anymore," he says firmly. "Shouldn't be tonight, 'cause we're tired and we're edgy, but we're gettin' it done soon so we can move on, got it?" She nods reluctantly, and he lets go of a breath he didn't know he was holding at her acceptance. He wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to call any of the shots from now on. "Good." He shifts awkwardly, his next words sticking in his throat as he tries to get them out. "For what it's worth, kid, I missed you like hell."

It's the surprise on her face that breaks him, in the end. The shock that he  _cares_ , that being away from her hurt him just as deeply. She steps forward slowly, doesn't even seem to know that she's doing it, but hell if that isn't enough permission for him. It takes a fraction of a second to reach her, and another to wrap his arms around her. She buries her face in the soft flannel of his shirt and digs her fingers into his back like she's afraid he's going to disappear.

They stand like that until his legs start to ache, exhaustion weighing heavy on him now that the worst of his troubles are over. He half-leads, half-carries Ellie to his cot and settles down on it. Neither of them let go.

Ellie stifles a yawn against his chest, and Joel smiles to himself. "D'you…" He clears his throat, working to keep his expression neutral as she looks up at him curiously, eyes cloudy with fatigue. "D'you wanna sleep here?" Her face goes bright red, and she mumbles something too quiet for his ears before nodding.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but they manage to fit themselves comfortably on the small cot, facing each other on their sides. Ellie throws an arm over him, curling closer and closing her eyes. She breathes out deeply, like she's been holding the air in for years. "You good?" he asks, trying to ignore the constricting of his chest that might choke him if he gives into it.

She hums sleepily in response. "I'm good." She tightens her grip on him. "Sorry I stole your clothes," she mumbles.

He huffs a surprised laugh. "'S fine," he assures her. "I don't mind." Which he doesn't, not really, even if he  _is_  a little confused. "They look better on you, anyway." And yeah, maybe he's only half-teasing when he says it.

Ellie snorts. "Ha  _fucking_  ha. They're comfy," she says, her tone defensive despite his reassurances. "Maria wanted to give me some, but…" She shrugs, pulling back to look at him. "It feels weird, doesn't it? Just… being  _given_  shit, without really earning it."

"Yeah," he mutters, thinking back to his reaction at Tommy's onslaught of welcoming gifts. "It does."

"I didn't, you know," Ellie says conversationally. Joel frowns at her, confused. "I didn't ask to leave you. That day, with Tommy in the town square… I never asked. Maria offered on my first day at the wall, but-"

" _What?"_  Joel barks, sitting up so fast his head spins. He's not sure  _why_ he bothers moving; it's not like he can storm outside and yell at his sister-in-law at this ungodly hour.

Ellie grabs his arm like she's afraid he  _is_  going to give Maria a piece of his mind right now. "She was just trying to help! Don't…" She doesn't seem to know what she's asking him not to do, but she seems genuinely afraid and he wants to kick his own ass repeatedly.

"I ain't gonna do nothin'," he says. "You just… surprised me, is all." She nods hesitantly, but he can still feel the tension radiating off of her. He lies back down, relieved when she follows and curls up at his side again.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," she says. "I kinda thought Tommy already told you. I said no. I mean, obviously, right?" She gestures at herself with a nervous smile on her face. "She said it was okay if I'd changed my mind about staying here."

"Why didn't you?" he asks, not sure he wants to hear the answer.

"We stick together, right?" She pauses, waiting until he nods his agreement to continue. "So I couldn't change my mind. None of the other stuff mattered, not enough to  _leave_. I tried to tell Maria that, but I guess she thought… I don't even know what she thought. She said that maybe it would be  _better_ , makes things easier, and I sorta flipped my shit," she admits. Joel shoots her a shocked look and she squirms. "Just a  _little_. I didn't  _do_  anything except yell." He snorts, skeptical. "A lot, okay? I yelled a lot," she mutters.

"What'd she do?" Joel asks.

Ellie shrugs. "She backed down that time. She tried to ask again a few other times, but she stopped eventually." She winces. "I was a little mean."

"Yeah, well. She needs to mind her own damn business," Joel mutters. It's not fair of him, he knows. Maria's been looking out for Ellie this entire time, and he of all people can't fault her for that. But having Ellie in his arms again makes it too easy to imagine the total absence of her, and for a moment he hates Maria a little for playing any part in bringing that about.

"Was Tommy any better?" Ellie asks. "At keeping out of your private life?"

Joel scoffs. "That boy wouldn't know privacy if it bit him in the ass." Ellie smothers a laugh against his shoulder.

"I figured as much, considering you said he was trying to marry you off." Her smile fades abruptly, the laughter gone from her voice. Before he can ask why, she rushes into her next sentence. "Do you like her? Esther?"

"She's good people," he says slowly, watching Ellie with confusion. "Doesn't pry, which is lookin' to be rare as hell in this place."

"Maria mentioned you spent a lot of time at the stables." Ellie won't look at him now, and no, that's not right. She was laughing just moments ago; he wants that, he doesn't want this new tension.

"Tommy woulda dragged me through town until I picked  _someone_. Figured I could keep to myself with someone who didn't drive me mental and wait him out." He shrugs. "Worked well enough."

"Are you gonna marry her?" she asks, her expression unreadable.

Joel flinches. " _God_ , no." Not that he should be surprised she asked. "I ain't… Me and her, we don't…" He sighs in frustration. "No," he says. He could keep going, say he barely knows the woman, or that he hasn't been in Jackson nearly long enough to make any long-term decisions, but none of that  _matters_ , not really, because his answer would be the same regardless of how long he'd been in Jackson. So, he shuts up.

A little flash of a smile, so quick he could've imagined it, tugs at her mouth. "Okay." She looks at him as she says it, and her eyes are wide and bright in that way he's missed so badly. They don't talk much, after that. It's enough to be close and warm and  _together_ , and Joel is glad for it. As much as he missed her voice, he missed these moments more. Ellie stifles another yawn, and he realizes it must be close to dawn, now.

"Sleep, Ellie. We got time to talk later." She mumbles something that sounds like agreement, her eyes already drifting shut. He reaches for one of the blankets on the floor, careful not to disturb the girl in his arms, and settles it over them.

"You, too," she mutters, startling him. "You gotta sleep, too. 'M not going anywhere, promise…" She clutches at his shirt, as if to convince him.

"I know that," he assures her, and it's only a half-lie. He knows that she wants him right now, needs him with her  _now_ , so he believes she means what she says, if only for the moment. But the whole truth is he's scared senseless that his mind has finally snapped, and he's imagining the whole thing. Or that whatever loneliness is hounding her now will fade in the morning and she'll turn away from him again.

Ellie makes a small, surprised noise and he realizes he's tightened his grip on her, hard enough to leave a mark.  _That's not the way to make her stay, idiot,_  he berates himself. He releases her immediately, stuttering apologies. "It's okay," she says softly. "I don't mind." He hesitates, and she pulls his arms back around her. "It's okay," she repeats. "Can't sleep?" she asks after he's settled. He hums noncommittally. "Would you… I mean, maybe…" She shakes her head. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"Ellie," he says, "'s alright, you can tell me."

"Maybe… if you can't sleep, would you mind singing that song again?" She ducks her head so he can't see her expression, but he can hear the hope under her pretended nonchalance, clear as anything.

"'Course," he says, even as his earlier nerves rise back to the surface. "Any particular part?"

She shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. I just… I like your voice. It's nice."

He has no way of responding to that without sounding like an idiot, so he clears his throat and hopes to god he won't forget the words halfway through. " _All the promises at sundown, I met them like the rest. All the demons used to come 'round I'm grateful now they've left. So persistent in my ways, Angel I am here to stay. No resistance, no alarms, please, this is just too good to be gone. I believe, and I believe 'cause I can see, our future days, days of you and me_ …" Ellie is silent when he finishes, and he figures he's put her to sleep. He ducks his head down briefly, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Thank you," she whispers, and they both pretend not to notice the crack in her voice.

* * *

Joel wakes up to afternoon sunlight streaming through the window to hit his face. He spares a brief moment to wonder why nobody's come to wake them up, before he remembers his brother's late-night visit.  _Wonder what excuse he gave to Maria,_  he muses, a little more uncharitably than he could have. Even half-awake and groggy as hell, he's still bitter over her offer to take Ellie away.

Still, it's hard to stay angry when he has Ellie's weight –still too light, too tiny, so damn  _breakable_ \- beside him. She hasn't woken up yet, and he lets her sleep. Last night's reunion plays through his head on repeat while he watches her.  _What now?_ he wonders,  _what the hell do we do now?_

He doesn't have much time to think on an answer as Ellie shifts mere moments later, waking up. He stays still and silent, waiting for her reaction. He keeps his grip loose to release her, but when she moves, it's to face him. They must look ridiculous, he thinks, staring at each other so seriously. Her face is intensely focused for someone just woken up. If she's at all surprised that he's awake, she doesn't show it.

"Mornin'," he says, cautious of the fact she might have changed her mind once more.

"Hey, you." She smiles, a little sleepy but entirely genuinely, and the relief on his face must be something because her smile turns just a bit sad. She burrows back under the covers, back to her spot against him. "'M cold," she murmurs, and he doesn't bother to mention that it's a spring afternoon with no chill to speak of, because she already  _knows_. It's not pity, it never is with Ellie, but a sort of understanding that he'll never stop being grateful for.

"C'mere, then," he says unnecessarily; she's already as close as she can possibly get.

They talk, handfuls of words that don't mean all that much, just getting a feel for each other again. They share a few stories between them, and Joel should feel awful that Ellie has even fewer stories than he does, that she spent her time keeping her head down just as much as he did. He should, but there's too much satisfaction in it; not that she suffered,  _never_  that, but the fact that she wanted to be with him when she was up at the wall, surrounded by people… he doesn't bother to curb the feeling.

It seems to be mutual, because when he tells her about Tommy's failed matchmaking attempts, her grin is just a bit too self-satisfied, and she laughs just a bit too delightedly when he mentions his misgivings about Esther's naming capabilities. Ellie crows when he admits he defended  _her_  skills.

"My hero," she drawls, and surprises him with a quick, clumsy kiss to the cheek. "I knew you secretly loved Callus' name," she declares, and her mouth only twitches down for a moment when she says the name. She even agrees to teach Esther her brilliant ways, as long as Joel brings her around to the stables every time he goes. She makes him swear to high heaven he won't go without her.

"What, worried I'm gonna disappear in there?" he jokes. Her grin falters for just a moment, quick enough he knows he wasn't meant to see it, but it's enough to have him vowing not to set foot in the building without her, Lord strike him down if he breaks his word. That seems to satisfy her, and whatever unease was dogging her bleeds right out.

They don't talk much about the townsfolk. Neither of them are in the habit of making friends, and for all his talk about Ellie joining the kids for fun, he's nowhere near disappointed that she refused.

He doesn't know how to steer the conversation into more serious waters, doesn't know if he even wants to. It feels too damn good, laughing with her again. It's too easy to fall back into what they had and pretend the disaster with the Fireflies never happened. But it did, and he knows it will keep coming back until they face it.

As usual, Ellie is several steps ahead of him.

"I need you to play me that recording again," she tells him after a stretch of comfortable silence. He stares at her with what he thinks is understandable confusion. Fear is already clawing at his throat, the memory of her first reaction all too clear. A refusal is ready on his tongue, and it  _hurts_  to bite it back. He stays silent. She smiles sheepishly at him. "Sorry. That was out of nowhere, wasn't it? But I do. Need to… do that. Soon. Probably  _now_." She breathes out heavily. "Yeah, now would be good."

"Why the hell d'you wanna hear that thing again?" he asks, his voice harder than he intended. His calm, his certainty that they were on solid ground again, crumbles away.

" _Please,_  Joel." And damn her, she knows he has no defense against that.

He can already picture what will happen; he can imagine her shutting down again and  _he can't fucking take another round of this_. "Fine." He tosses the covers back with white-knuckled hands, nearly jumping out of his skin when Ellie grabs his arm.

"Joel,  _wait_. Wait. It's okay.  _We're_  okay. I just need to hear it one last time. Then you can smash it to fucking pieces, if you want. I'll help. Just one more time. I promise nothing will change." She offers him a small smile. "It never changed anything to begin with, not really. You know I wouldn't be here if it did."

He doesn't respond, looks away when her face falls.  _So much for makin' progress._  She loosens her grip reluctantly, and he goes to rifle through his pack for the recording. Finding it, he tosses the damned thing onto the cot beside her and makes to leave the room.

"Stay," she says, her voice only a razor's edge away from begging. He stops in his tracks, and yeah, he doesn't want to read too much into that.  _She'll have you rollin' over next. Damned fool._ "Please, I can't listen to it by myself."

Sighing heavily, he joins her on the cot and starts the recording. Marlene's voice doesn't haunt him this time, either because he's already heard it after her death or because she's already caused him all the trouble she can. Ellie is silent as a grave beside him, but she keeps edging towards him, reaching for his arm, his hand, his shoulder, the movements shaky and nervous.  _Stay_.

He can hear her crying; she's making these quiet, muffled sounds and they're fucking ruining him. He wants to comfort her, but he remembers her anger, remembers the disappointment in her eyes and he stays his hands. Marlene's voice fades out for the final time, and Joel waits.

Ellie rests her head against his arm, sniffling. "When you told Tommy that they were gonna kill me…" she hiccups.

Joel pulls her closer; his earlier resolution to let her be has dissolved in the face of her distress. She hesitates for a moment, and he worries he's crossed a line, but then she's winding her arms around his neck and pulling herself so close she's more on his lap than off.

"I… I never thought… I mean… I hoped… I was awake when you shot Marlene," she blurts out. Joel doesn't even have the energy left to be surprised. He just nods. "The drugs wore off before the car, at least a little. I heard the alarms, the gunshots. I heard her voice. And yours. Afterwards, I drifted. I… I faked it a bit, I guess, but I think I fell asleep, too… I can't remember. I was so tired, and I couldn't… I just couldn't."

"How much did you hear?" he asks, though he can hazard a guess. She shudders briefly. He shushes her gently and adjusts his hold on her so he can pull her closer.

"I don't know how long I was under." Suddenly, she starts laughing; a small, shattered noise that fractures his heart straight down the middle. Joel just hugs her closer, letting her ride out the hysterics. "They didn't even tell me I was gonna die." She pulls back slightly to look at him. "The doctors," she explains, seeing his confused expression. "They told me I was doing a great thing, that I had worked so hard, and they kept saying thank you. They told me it'd all be over quickly, I wouldn't feel a thing and I… I was still kinda out of it from nearly fucking drowning and if I had been more awake I might have put two and two together quicker but… Joel, I didn't realize I was gonna die until the last second. And I was so fucking afraid. And I thought about you and what you'd do with me gone and… and…" She dissolves into dry sobbing now, all her tears gone.

"Okay, baby girl. Just breathe. You're gonna make yourself sick. Then how're you supposed to punch me in the face for being so goddamn stupid?" She bursts out laughing again at that, that horrible shattered sound. Once she's calmed down, she settles back against his shoulder.

"Why'd you do it?" she asks quietly, voice raw. Joel expects his muscles to seize up, for his throat to close like when Ellie got between him and Tommy that first time, but nothing happens. He's calm, clear-headed. The dreaded question is upon him and he just feels fucking relieved.

"Because I'm a selfish, good-for-nothing bastard and you're the one good thing I've got left," he says, and it's the damndest thing, how easily the truth will come out when he's not trying to bury it. All those years of lying and looking over his shoulder, he thought he might've forgotten how to speak anything true. "Marlene…" Joel exhales. "D'you remember when she said that you'd want to die for the cure?" She nods silently. "Did you? Do you?" His voice is real low, and he's trying real hard to stop it from cracking. The silence is killing him and he can't look at Ellie because what if she did what if she still does  _oh god_ …

"I wanted to save the world," she says, her voice little more than a whisper. "I never gave much thought to how. I just figured… we'd get to the Fireflies, and they'd know exactly what to do, and… I don't know. They'd make the vaccine and I'd make them give it to you before anyone else, any of theirs. And then we'd both be immune and everyone else would be too, slowly. And I'd be a hero and they'd probably want to keep me around but you'd stay so it wouldn't be too horrible, and then either they'd let me out once things were stable or you'd sneak me out and we'd go to Tommy's and get them the cure and then…" She trails off, eyes distant.

"We'd live happily ever after," he finishes, voice cracking on 'happily', and there's no condescension or teasing in his tone.

"Yeah," she says, in that tiny voice again. "We'd live happily ever after." There's another beat of silence. "Hey, Joel?" she whispers.

"Yeah?" he says, just as quiet, not trusting his voice.

"Would you have stayed?" she asks him. "If you'd gotten me there and they weren't gonna kill me and you got cured and I was perfectly fine. Would you have still stayed? Even though there wasn't anything else for you to do?" She avoids his gaze when he tries to look at her.

"Would you have wanted me to?" he asks. She snorts.

"Yes," she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe, he thinks, it is.

"Yes," he tells her. And then his face feels wet and shit, did Tommy forget to patch a hole in the roof? Dammit, that fucking kid can't do anything-

"You're crying," Ellie says, awestruck. Joel snorts and brings his hand across his face. Sure enough, it comes back wet.

"Yeah," he says, voice thick. More silence.

"You cried then, too, after Marlene. In the car," she notes quietly, as if to herself.

He nods and presses the heel of his hand to his forehead. He remembers driving until the ruins of the Fireflies' last stand was far behind them, remembers pulling over and barely keeping himself together because  _he was so close to losing everything he could fucking taste it._ He remembers his eyes flicking to the rear-view mirror every half-minute to make sure she was still there, that he wasn't dreaming, wasn't making her up.

"The really fucking crazy thing is… I'm glad you did it," Ellie says, her voice suddenly fierce.

Joel removes his hand and looks at her in confusion, the shape of her a little blurry.

"The more I thought about it, the more I tried to convince myself I was mad at you for fucking over the world… The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't angry for the reasons I should have been. I was pissed off and hurt that you'd lied to me, but the rest… God, I was so fucking angry at  _myself._ " He can't hide his surprise, and she laughs a little, no joy in the sound. "It was way too easy, to come here with you and have your back, even after everything. I even tried to lock it all away, but I heard Marlene's voice and I remembered all the reasons why I  _shouldn't_ be okay with being here and it… it fucked me up." She takes a deep, steadying breath, her hands curling to fists in his collar. "And every time I looked at you I was so  _fucking_ relieved to still be breathing, and it was like I was being torn in half. What fucking right do I have to live, to be with you and be  _happy_  when I've ruined everything?"

"You've got every goddamn right," he growls, stomach churning as he realizes they've both been punishing themselves for the same damn thing. "You've got  _every_  right to live a good life. More than most."

"Says you."

"Says me."

She breathes out, half a laugh and half a sob, and he knows she doesn't believe a word he just said. "Fuck," she mutters numbly. "I'm  _glad._ I'm glad you didn't let me die, Joel. Is that horrible?" She's whispering again. "I want to feel guilty but every time I think of that room and that table…" She trails off, voice shaking along with the rest of her. "I'm really fucking glad you did it. And I know that makes me a shitty person, but what does it even matter? It's a shitty world, I  _match_."

And she pulls away from him then, curling herself into a ball. An intense feeling of loss slams into him, stronger even than if he'd lost a limb.

"It ain't worth much, comin' from me, but you're the least shitty person I know," Joel informs her, grabbing her by the shoulders and gently hauling her back over. She makes no protests and curls back up in his lap.

"It means a lot," she says, and her voice if muffled by his shirt so he's not sure he's heard right.

She pulls away and looks straight at him, and dammit how's he supposed to stop crying when she's looking at him like that, like he's the fucking end-all and be-all of this existence? How the fuck is he not supposed to break down because he's so fucking obviously not any of that and she's going to find out someday and she's going to realize she wasted the best years of her life tagging along with a broken old man and she's going to hate him-

"Joel?" He shakes himself back into reality.

"Yeah?"

"You're not a selfish, good-for-nothing bastard. You're the best person I know," she says, and Ellie's a good liar but her eyes are all big and earnest and- fuck. He can't correct her. Not those eyes. Not that face. He groans internally, wishing he could. The inevitable disappointment might kill her. Somehow, he manages to grit it out.

"I'm really not," he says, and he hates that he has to say that. That he's the type of man who needs to come with a warning label. He violently wishes he could go back and change how he did everything in the past twenty years, so long as he could get to this point and be able to hear Ellie tell him he was good and be able to believe it.

But he can't. And as much as he regrets all those things, those sins that keep him up at night, that keep Tommy up at night, those horrors that he never wants Ellie to know about but will probably end up confessing in a shattered mess one night… at the same time he doesn't. Regret them. Because now he's here. And that's… that's something.

A knock at the door interrupts them, and they both tense. No amount of time in Jackson will manage to erase those instincts, he's sure. "What d'you want?" Joel growls, hand moving to his holster. It's nothing, he's almost certain, but he won't risk it, not now.

"Easy, big guy. It's just me." Maria's voice is calm and even from the other side of the door. Joel frowns, arm tightening around the girl in his arms. "Is this a bad time?"  _Yes._  He nearly says it, but Ellie shoots him a pleading look that he can only interpret as, " _Be nice."_

"Come in," Ellie calls tiredly, when Joel remains stubbornly silent. The door opens, and Maria walks in carrying a basket and an extra bedroll.

"I come bearing gifts," she says. Her movements are cautious, as if she's afraid to set Joel off, and Joel can't blame her, not really. His entrance into Jackson was less than graceful, and since then… he knows he hasn't been anyone's picture of good behaviour lately. He has the decency to feel at least slightly guilty for his earlier actions.

Maria pauses momentarily as she takes in their red eyes and tear-stained faces. Her gaze settles longer on Ellie, concern barely concealed in her expression. Ellie grabs his hand, tangling her fingers in his. Joel sets his jaw in a way that dares the other woman to say a word. She doesn't. The concern on her face gives way to an almost sympathetic expression that irks him, but he bites his tongue.

"Tommy told me you guys had a late night. I figured, since you missed breakfast, you guys might need some food. And another bedroll, because there's not enough room for the two of you on there." She nods to Joel's cot, and he stiffens slightly. She raises her hands in a peacemaking gesture. "Your brother's idea, not mine. Use it if you want, or don't."

Maria sets her cargo down, and Ellie shifts at the sight of food. Not for the first time, Joel feels intense relief that she'll be able to eat her fill. Even after living with regular meals for a short while, it's still too easy to remember how scarce food used to be.

All he has to do is look at Ellie to know she's still too small, that she's gone years without steady meals. And yeah, maybe food lost a lot of its appeal while Ellie was distant, but now his own stomach aches in sympathy. Still, he's cautious. He's barely said two words to Maria since his arrival, and her sudden appearance unsettles him.

"I'm sorry I left you hanging," Ellie apologizes, cutting the tense silence. "I didn't wake up that long ago, and-"

Maria cuts her off with a dismissive wave. "Don't worry. After Tommy talked to me, I pretty much guessed you wouldn't be coming in."

Ellie nods, but stays strangely tense against Joel. "I… I've been meaning to ask you something else." Maria nods, cutting a quick, confused glance to Joel. He has no answer to give her, every bit as curious as she is. "I know I have to pull my weight, and I know you need help at the wall, but I was wondering if maybe, there was something else I could do. Something a little bit closer to… to home."

Maria's expression softens. "Ellie, honey, no one expects you to  _do_  anything. You don't have to earn your keep. The wall… I just wanted to keep an eye on you, maybe take your mind off of things. I never meant for you to think you  _had_  to do it."

Ellie frowns, looks from Maria to Joel in complete confusion. "But-" She stops, shakes her head. "It's already so dangerous for you guys, having me here." She rubs at her shirtsleeve right over where her bite would be, and Joel feels his stomach twist at her words. "I have to do  _something_."

Maria shrugs, though there's a sadness in her eyes that clashes with that casualness. "Live your life, Ellie. Be happy. No one should be asking you to do any more, yourself included." Ellie starts to protest, and the older woman sighs. "Fine. Tell you what; you can kick ass with this grumpy bastard of yours when needed, and if there's any errands that need running, I'll make sure they keep you close to home." She smiles a bit on the last word, and Joel would bet good money that she knows Ellie wasn't talking about the house.

Ellie relaxes against him, nodding her agreement. Joel makes a note to have a good, long talk with her later about this. He won't have her believing she has to work herself to the bone just to have the slightest bit of anything good in her life.

"Everythin' alright, then?" Joel asks.

"What do you mean?" Maria keeps her expression unreadable, and he can't shake that worry building in him.

"I ain't exactly been a model citizen lately. And I know you and my brother were pretty damn worried over it. Considerin' you've had time to think about the risks of havin' us both here –god knows that first day at the gate showed you plenty- a man's gotta wonder. Are we still cleared to stay?" he asks. Maybe he's being an ass, but so much has happened in the short time since that first day, since Tommy's promises to protect them both. If he and Ellie are gonna make their life here, Joel is damn well making sure that those promises still hold, that the girl in his arms is safe.

Maria's expression turns to something dangerously close to pity, and Joel has to work  _damn_  hard to stop himself from saying or doing something real stupid.

"Of course," she says gently. "You're safe here. Tommy would die before he saw anything happen to you or Ellie." She smiles, a little bemused. "And I'd be lying if I said you haven't grown on me, too. Besides, people here respect us. If we tell them to leave you alone, they will. No one is going to find out about Ellie. No one is going to throw you out for being protective, though I'd appreciate it if you'd make an effort not to scare the living shit out of everyone you cross. And maybe control the urge to beat my husband's face in, though I know he doesn't make it easy some days."

Joel snorts, but doesn't interrupt her.

"I won't apologize for offering to have Ellie stay with us," she continues, her expression hardening just slightly. Ellie squeezes his hand, either to restrain him or to comfort, he's not sure. "Tommy and I, we were worried about  _both_ of you; it was pretty clear something was wrong, and we thought giving you guys space would be best. Tommy wanted to try and help you out in his own way, and I thought some change could do Ellie some good. Obviously, you figured it out on your own. I'm sorry if anything we did made this worse than it already was." She shrugs tiredly. "Rest, Joel. God knows you must need it; this hasn't been an easy time for either of you."

"I reckon you're right, ma'am." If nothing else, he can respect her for trying to protect Ellie. And she's genuine in a way he hasn't seen all that often, not in this world. Keeping that in mind might be enough to keep him civil.

"Maria," she corrects gently. There's a moment where she pauses, hesitant in a way that Joel doesn't think is usually in her character. "Alright, then. I'll be on my way, now. I'll see you both later, I'm sure." She nods at them and starts out the door. Ellie gives him a hopeful look, nudging him in the side. He sighs.

"Maria," he calls after her. She stops, turn to face him with an inquiring look on her face. "Thanks. For all this, and for… everythin' else, too." He looks anywhere but at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees her smile.  _There. I played nice._ He can feel Ellie's pride radiating off of her, and maybe that makes swallowing his own pride worth it.

"We're family, Joel. You and Tommy, of course, but me and Ellie by extension, too. We gotta watch out for each other. You're not alone, you know. Not anymore." Maria shrugs, like it's the easiest thing to offer someone family in this world. He likes the idea more than he thought he would. Maybe Tommy wasn't entirely off the mark about settling down, even if he went about it all the wrong ways. Joel chuckles and plays idly with a stray strand of Ellie's hair, his face thoughtful.

"You might be right 'bout that," he admits, and that's as close as he'll come to another thank-you. He doesn't look back up at Maria, and only raises his eyes again once he's heard the soft click of the door.

"I think we get to stay," Ellie tells him once Maria leaves. Her voice has a hushed sort of glee to it that makes his heart ache. It's a good pain, though. He doesn't really mind.

"Yeah," he manages to say, kissing the side of her head. "I think so, too." Ellie yawns loudly, and he laughs softly. "Back to bed already?" He can't really blame her; enough has happened since they woke up that he feels exhausted all over again. Ellie makes a vague noise of agreement behind yet another yawn. It occurs to him briefly that they haven't really discussed much of anything. He looks over at Ellie, still with a smile on her face, and decides that some things are best left alone. There's a sense of foreboding at the back of his mind that he pushes away. What's done is done. It's time to move on.

"What's wrong?" Ellie asks. "Everything's good. We get to stay in Jackson, we've got Maria and Tommy watching our backs, and… you know. Stuff's okay." She shoves his shoulder playfully. "Lighten up, old man. We're okay." There's a moment of desperation in her eyes that fades quickly, but it's enough to make him think he's not the only one who wants to move on.

"Ellie…" She looks at him, expression expectant. He takes her in, all sleepy half-smiles and bright eyes, and the words turn to ash in his mouth. "Nothin'. Don't worry 'bout it." He rolls onto his back, thoughts clouded with worry. Maybe she really has forgiven him, and the whole mess really is done. Why dig it up, make it worse again? She wants to  _live_ , wants to live with  _him_. That's enough, it's so much more than enough he can barely believe his good luck. So he'll shut his damn mouth and be thankful that he gets to keep her.

"Joel," Ellie whispers, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah?" He takes in the thoughtful expression on her face, something close to hesitation in her eyes. For a moment, fear grips him. She's changed her mind, he's sure. She's going to tell him she doesn't want him, doesn't need him like he needs her.

"You're my one good thing, too." And just like that, he forgets everything else.

Some things, he's beginning to realize, are really just better off left unsaid.


End file.
